


Which Way to Go

by writing_as_tracey



Category: Vampire Diaries (TV)
Genre: Aged Up, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, Gen, It may seem like it, but it's not a retelling seriously
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-12-22
Updated: 2015-09-13
Packaged: 2018-01-05 14:01:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 6
Words: 52,665
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1094749
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/writing_as_tracey/pseuds/writing_as_tracey
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>AU: Elena’s parents died when she was 17 – what if it happened at 22 instead? Slightly older, slightly more cynical, and slightly more dangerous, Mystic Falls is a very different place for university graduates than high schoolers, especially with dopplegängers and hybrids converging on the town.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. I

**Author's Note:**

> Story requires some suspension of disbelief, as being born in 1992 makes the year 2014 when the main core group is 22. Since at the moment we’re not in 2014, things are slightly skewed by a year, with pop culture references at 2013 instead. Other changes and explanations will appear as exposition throughout.

Which Way To Go

Kneazle

 **Disclaimer** : All character, locations, and situations belong to the CW and Kevin Williamson and Julie Plec, along with the original rights of the book series to L.J. Smith. No money is made in this story.

*

One:

 

 **Frances** : Any arbitrary turning along the way and I would be elsewhere; I would be different.

\-- _Under the Tuscan Sun_ (2003)

*

_Paris, France_

_Spring Break, last week in March_

 

                Caroline didn’t understand what all the fuss was about. The Mona Lisa sure was a pretty picture, but it wasn’t that large and it was under a thick cube of glass and several roped off areas to keep keen tourists from breathing too closely on it. Really, who would go to the Louvre just to see one painting and ignore that fact that there were thousands of other artifacts for them to see? The place was huge.

                With a roll of her eyes, she quickly left the hall, moving past several different rooms of different artistic movements, until she passed the sculptures and zigzagged up and down floors until she was in a room relatively free of tourists. She was glad she ditched her Contiki tour guide on her final day in Paris, eager to spend time away from the other twenty-somethings on the tour with her, their gossiping, and desire to hit up the Parisian boutiques and a club later that night instead of taking in the cultural sights of the famous city.

                She breathed deeply; her eyes closed and she felt the tension leave her shoulders as she stood in front of a rather abstract piece of art, in a darkened room to preserve the pigments in the paint, allowing the quiet hum of electrical lights and low murmurs of one or two other tourists a room over relax her.

                Although she attended Duke University in North Caroline, Caroline had never left the state before attending her post-secondary education. It took months of cajoling and promises of safety before her sheriff mother even considered the idea of Caroline booking a Contiki vacation over Spring Break in her final year of university to travel out of the United States. Her promises consisted of maintaining her GPA (nearly perfect), maintaining her club and social activities (cheer captain of the university team, social calendar committee head, captain of the equestrian team, and usually on call for a theatre group when they needed an extra singer and dancer for their musicals), and maintaining her part time internship with a party planning business. Over Christmas, Elizabeth “Liz” Forbes had given her permission and the next day, took her daughter to the travel agency in the centre of town and they booked Caroline’s vacation package to Europe.

                Although Spring Break was only a week, Caroline took a 10-day trip, visiting Rome, Berlin, Vienna, Amsterdam, London and finished her trip in Paris; the next day was her flight back to the States. Caroline loved Europe; it was old, full of life and history, mysterious and beautiful. Each city was different from the last, and Caroline long ago promised herself that she would see the world. Even as her trip was ending, she was thinking ahead to her next: perhaps Asia, to Tokyo, Osaka, Beijing, or Hong Kong?

                That wasn’t to say that she didn’t like her hometown: Mystic Falls was a rather quaint American Revolution-settled town of barely 50,000, previously a British outpost that was taken over and later, once the war was over, became Mystic Falls at the beginning of the 1800s. It didn’t prosper until the mid-1800s, a decade or two before the Civil War broke out; those who helped the town grow and become the milling town of rural north-west Virginia were called the Founding Families, and Caroline could trace her history back to her ancestor, William Marshall Forbes.

                Mystic Falls was home: her two best friends, Elena Gilbert and Bonnie Bennett, still lived at home and attended the local Whitmore College. Although she considered herself besties with Elena and Bonnie, the truth was that Caroline was outside of their circle of friendship. With Elena and Bonnie attending a local and living at home, they had far more time to spend together and Caroline’s decision to attend a university in a larger city meant she was only home for holidays and rarely since the summer of her second year, due to her internship. Truthfully, Caroline was jealous of Elena’s easy popularity and her relationship with Matt Donovan; she made everything look effortless while Caroline spent numerous attempts and long hours working to perfection.

                There was also the fact that while they grew up, Caroline was everyone’s second choice: the girl picked after Elena in sport; picked after Elena for partner projects; picked after Elena as a date for a dance when she said “no” to someone; picked after Elena by their friends who made plans with her first. It was why Caroline worked so hard to maintain her status in high school as social leader and the most popular girl in school – she needed to feel needed and wanted and in control (of a very out-of-control life).

                Her control issues stemmed from her father’s abandonment of the family to move to San Francisco and live with his partner, Steven; her mother took the news of his homosexuality badly, in terms of a failure of a marriage and friendship. She threw herself into her work as town sheriff, leaving a dejected eight-year-old Caroline often alone and fending for herself. From an early age, Caroline felt the need to maintain her independence and her control over what she could in a very unstable home life.

                University eased many of her neurotic tendencies, however. First year was a radical change from small town life, and soon Caroline found that focusing on her studies and trying to keep her high school social calendar in university was not possible. Scaling things back, she found that she could manage one or two clubs in addition to her schoolwork and even found a few friends that picked _her_ first.

                The immediate increase of her confidence was notable when she returned to Mystic Falls the first summer after her first year; when she witnessed Elena and Bonnie ditch her to spend time together after an issue with Elena’s parents, while she remained at the Grill. Back in high school, Caroline knew that she would have taken offense; now, she merely sighed, as it became rote. Upon her return to Duke, Caroline found a paid internship opportunity through her program (majoring in Event Management and minor in interior design) and immediately jumped on it. She didn’t return to Mystic Falls until Thanksgiving and even then, she only saw her mother for one day before she was back at her rented apartment.

                However, unfortunately, all those feelings of second best and loneliness and inadequacy poured through her as she viewed the abstract painting before her: the painting was medium-sized, traditional square filled with a swirl of dark blues, purples, and angry reds; the background was black and there were slashes of lighter blues that screamed _lonely_ to Caroline. A few splatters of white, delicately flicked in a single, low corner on the right hand side, were the only bright part of the painting. Of course, Caroline was slightly more surprised at the idea of a modern painting in the Louvre, which predominantly focused on classic and infamous pieces of art history than modernism – wasn’t there a Dali museum, in the city as well?

                “What do you think of it?”

                Caroline started at the almost-Cockney English accent, tinged with a touch of somewhere else. A tall, young man stood beside her, his hands clasped behind his back. He wore dark jeans, heavy work-style boots, and had a brown leather jacket over a thin shirt with graphic print of it. He glanced down at her, and Caroline caught a flash of bright blue eyes, a dimple, and smirk on incredibly, sinfully, pouty lips.

                “Umm,” she began intelligently, tearing her eyes from the figure to look back at the painting. While she understood art and was completing a double degree in an art-related field, she wasn’t exactly thrilled to be quizzed on the metaphorical reasoning behind an abstract painting.

                She tilted her head to the side, and began to slowly speak. “I think... lonely. That the artist is lonely, and frustrated and angry. That there’s this... ocean of emotion in them and it’s like a storm crashing onto shore: violent and dangerous. There’s power and strength in them.”

                “Go on,” he said, his voice low and encouraging.

                “But,” Caroline bit her lip. “But the lighter blue – that’s sadness. Even in the middle of this hurricane of emotion, the artist is lonely. Predominantly angry, of course – but lonely. Like no one understands them, like there’s no one else quite in the world ready to take a chance on them... but those splatters of white? Hope. The possibility of a future, but one that is so small, so finite, that there may be no possibility of it at all...”

                Caroline felt the well of emotion as she spoke bubble up and she reached a shaky hand to her eyes to wipe at the few tears that gathered. “I’m sorry,” she laughed self-consciously and shakily. “The painting kind of reminds me of my favourite quote from a book I really like.”

                “What’s that, sweetheart?” the man asked, and she caught his eyes as she glanced at him shyly.

                “Fitzgerald’s _The Great Gatsby_ ,” she began, with a small smile. “Nick Carraway: ‘So we beat on, boats against the current, borne back ceaselessly into the past.’ It’s like the painting, right? Constantly fighting, constantly beating angrily against what life throws at us, but always trying to move forward even if we’re against the current and can’t escape our past and past mistakes.”

                The man smiled, less of a smirk and more genuine now, as his eyes darted across Caroline’s face. “Fan of the Jazz Age, sweetheart? Like the 1920s, do you?”

                Caroline laughed. “One of my favourite eras, I’ll admit. That and the American Civil War. I’m a sucker for the big hoop skirts and ruffles and lace.”

                The two stood in silence some more, her glancing at the painting, and him looking at her in curiosity and something else indefinable. Finally, Caroline shifted on her feet and fiddled with her museum map. “So, I’ve got about two more hours here before my schedule has me moving on to something else,” began Caroline, apologetically. “I’ve got the Lower Ground Floor to see and I’m avoiding the Ground Floor in general...”

                “Would you like a guide?” the words were out of the man’s mouth before he had time to think, as evident by the surprise that briefly flickered on his face. Caroline caught it, unsure if she would take him up on an offer that he hadn’t thought to make.

                Finally, she thought back to her own loneliness and desire to see Paris. She eyed him warily at first, flapping the museum map at him in emphasis. “I’ve got a plan, mister, and there are things I want to see in a timely manner. You okay with that?”

                He grinned, amused by her. “Of course.”

                “Right,” said Caroline, with a firm nod of her head. She stuck her right hand out in front of him. “I’m Caroline.”

                His eyes darted down to her hand, and smoothly, his grasped hers; he then brought the hand to his mouth and gently brushed a kiss on the back of it. Caroline wouldn’t admit it to anyone, but she was rather flattered by his old world charm.

                “I’m Nik,” he said. “And museums – culture, art – are something of a speciality of mine.”

                Caroline smiled brightly at him, watching as his own smiled widened in response. “Well then Nik,” she said, “It’s good that I’ve met you, because I want to visit the Museum of Modern Art before my dinner show at the Moulin Rouge tonight.”

                “I think that can be arranged,” he responded, and together, they explored the Louvre. They then explored the Paris Museum of Modern Art, argued about Dali as they walked along the Seine and argued some more about Frida Kahlo, and then shared a baguette along the Champs-Eylsées.

                Caroline was surprised at how well they got along, even when they argued; he was respectful of her views and opinions, while having his own; they had numerous things in common (love for horses, history, design, and both enjoyed their debate of Steinbeck versus Fitzgerald). Caroline learned he lived in London and was an artist himself (“I have a painting hanging in the Hermitage, but it’s a secret, don’t tell anyone.”) and he was a middle child (“Two older brothers, two younger brothers and a younger sister,” he said and she replied, “Gosh, is your last name Weasley by any chance?”).

                Somehow, he cajoled her into joining her Moulin Rouge dinner and show (“But how did you manage to join me? I booked the dinner three months’ in advance when I booked my trip!” and he replied, “It’s a secret, love, if I told you – I’d have to kill you. And I’d rather not kill something as beautiful as you.”) and spent the entire time scoffing at the show, saying how historically inaccurate it was, how Baz Luhrmann’s film romanticised the turn of the century, and how (although it was bohemian and amazing) Montmartre wasn’t as exciting, dazzling, glittering, as the show made it (“Why Nik, it’s almost as though you lived through it,” Caroline had said. “Maybe I have,” was his arrogantly amused reply, which made her laugh).

                Neither wanted the night to end – it was the first time Caroline had enjoyed herself so much, without feeling second best, without feeling like an obligation. She could see how, over the hours they spent together, he loosened up, began to relax and enjoy her company, and how he cracked jokes as well as breathlessly and effortlessly flattered and complimented Caroline at every opportunity. What started out, as two strangers touring Paris became two friends touring Paris, which quickly turned to gentle hand tugging and caresses.

                Standing outside the Moulin Rouge, Caroline stared up at Nik, smiling gently. She didn’t want to call a cab to take her back to her hotel.

                “Thanks for everything today,” she said. “It’s been the best end to my trip.”

                He gazed down at her, the bright, flashing red and white lights of the famous windmill bearing down on them and lighting up Caroline’s face. He felt the tension growing between them as the day progressed; he also didn’t want things to end.

                He leaned down while bringing a hand up to gently touch her cheek. He ghosted his breath across Caroline’s face, giving her the opportunity and choice to back away. When she didn’t, he pressed forward and slid his lips against hers, slowly. She sucked in a heady breath of air, and he angled his head, pressing deeper, harder against her.

                And in the shining lights of Montmartre, kissing the most amazing man she’d ever met, Caroline fell hard and fast.

                They ended up at his hotel, lips attached and clothing optional, fumbling in their haste as they banged against the coffee table (he swore), as he pressed her against the wall (she called out to God), as he dropped her on his bed.

                His hands shook as they ghosted over her bare skin; her hands fluttered from the nape of his neck to his shoulders, to his broad back as their lips covered other ground and they found pleasure in each other; just as he traced over her sparrow tattoo with callused fingers, she traced over his on his right shoulder blade (“Seriously? A triangle? Is this a Deathly Hallows thing?”) and left pectoral (“I guess we both believe in flying away,” she whispered, looking at his ravens). 

                Caroline felt loved; cherished. Nik felt special, a connection. But both knew it wouldn’t last.

                It was Caroline’s phone that blared her flight alarm, waking her from her sleep.

                The young woman threw her left arm out, towards the bedside table. Her flattened palm whacked a few things (mainly the mattress, the side of the table) before she reached the phone. Her hand tightened around the device, and she shifted her body closer to the left side of the bed, despite the grumbling and tightening of the arm around her stomach.

                Caroline blinked, propping up on her right elbow to rub against her eyes and glance at the phone screen. She then blinked again.

                “ _Holy shit_!” she yelped, throwing back the covers and coming instantly awake. She stumbled to the floor, her eyes darting back and forth as she began looking for her clothing from the previous day.

                “What’s wrong?” mumbled Nik, rolling onto his back and watching Caroline from hooded eyes.

                “My flights’ in four hours, I gotta get to the airport. No, wait, first to the hotel. Gotta shower, change, pack, and check out,” Caroline began rambling. “Fuck! Fucking fuck, I’m going to be _so late_...”

                Nik sat up, watching Caroline shimmy under the coffee table to retrieve her t-shirt and enjoying the view as she did so. She then sprinted towards the chair in the corner of the room and snatched her shorts.

                “I’ll drive you,” said Nik. “I’ll make sure you get to the airport in time.”

                Caroline fluttered to a stop, her shorts and t-shirt clutched in her hands to her chest as she stood in just her underwear – a lovely matching pale blue combination that Nik had enthusiastically commented on the previous evening – staring at him. “You’re staying in a hotel room in Paris, but you have a car?”

                “I tend to prefer the freedom to travel whenever I visit cities,” responded Nik evenly.

                Caroline hummed her agreement and slowly let her clothing drop from her chest. “But you’ll get me to the airport on time?”

                “Of course,” he laughed. “You’ve got class on Monday – tomorrow. I wouldn’t want you to miss it. It’s important to you.”

                Caroline smiled at the words. “Thanks, Nik.”

                “That said,” he began, eyeing her clothing. “We do have some time before going back to your hotel...”

                She laughed and moved back towards the bed.

                An hour and a half later, Nik was driving her towards Charles De Gaulle Airport, his fingers entwined with hers as they rested between them on the centre console. He waited with her in the American Airlines check-in line, and even helped her load her suitcase on the conveyor belt, frowning as the male attendant commented on its slightly overweight contents in a rather flirtatious manner.

Caroline flushed red, mainly in embarrassment and only a little in pleasure, and began rooting through her purse to pull out her wallet and pay the overweight fee. Finding it, she pulled out her near-maxed credit card and began to hand it over.

“Oh, no need,” began the attendant, slightly monotonously and without the flirty tone he used before. “We’ll let it slip this time.”

Caroline’s brows furrowed. “Really?”

“Oh yes,” the attendant said.

Caroline turned to Nik, who just threw his hands up innocently and said, “I would just let it go, love.”

She shrugged in return and put away her credit card and wallet, received her ticket stub and directions to her gate and her boarding time.

Outside customs, Nik and Caroline stood facing each other.

“So I guess this is goodbye,” began Caroline awkwardly, hitching her backpack straps on her shoulder.

“I guess so,” replied Nik.

                The two stared at each other, Caroline biting her lip and him twitching his fingers. Finally, Caroline reached for his hand, tugging it to her. “Got a pen?” she asked.

                Amused, Nik gestured with his free hand ( _who, me?_ ) and Caroline rolled her eyes. “You’re so not a planner,” she muttered, sliding her backpack from her shoulders and opening a front compartment to retrieve her pencil case. Once a pen was in her hand, she took Nik’s hand and began writing on the back of it.

                “Sweetheart, what are you doing?” he asked, patiently.

                “I don’t have a free sheet of paper on me,” answered Caroline, looking down at his hand, her blonde hair shielding whatever she was writing from Nik’s eyes. “There!”

                She let go of his hand and he curiously looked over it. A smile touched his lips. “Caroline Forbes, Mystic Falls, Virginia. An email _and_ a phone number? I’m flattered.”

                “Choice is yours,” she replied. “I had a great time yesterday, and this morning, Nik. You’re fantastic, and our time together was fantastic. But I’m also not going to expect to hear from you again unless you want to get in touch – as pen pals, as friends, as whatever you’d like. No pressure.”

                “Thank you, sweetheart,” he replied softly. Caroline had learned during their time together that while she had control issues, Nik took them to a new level.

                “No problem,” she said back, grasping the lapels of his leather jacket and yanking him down to her height, drawing his lips to hers. Their kiss was soft, lingering, but heated. She slowly pulled away – she was tingling down to her toes – and took one, then two, steps back, putting her backpack on again.

                “I’ll see you around,” she whispered.

                “Not if I see you first,” he whispered back.

She kept her eyes on him until she joined the customs line, knowing he stood in the same spot. Once she was through the metal detector and had gathered her backpack, she turned back to see him staring at her, a faint smile on his face. She lifted a hand to her lips and blew him a kiss.

His smiled widened, and she held that image in her mind until she met her mother at the arrivals gate in Richmond and Liz Forbes said, as straightforwardly as she could without emotion colouring her voice, “Elena was in a car accident yesterday. Her parents are dead.”

*

_Mystic Falls_

_First week of April_

 

                The funeral was held on Thursday, the day after Elena left the hospital. The weather was clear but chilly, typical March weather, and Elena could name almost everyone in attendance.

                Her parents’ friends, as well as the Founding Families of Mystic Falls, made the majority of those at the funeral: Caroline, her mother, and estranged father to represent the Forbes; Mayor Richard Lockwood, his wife Carol, and son Tyler; Pastor Young and his daughter April; Zachary Salvatore, Brian Walters, and the Fell family and their expended cousins.

                Bonnie sat with her father and grandmother; Matt sat with his sister (who looked like she wanted to be anywhere but there) and his mother Kelly, who was Miranda Gilbert’s best friend; several of her Aunt Jenna’s friends and schoolmates, like the local news reporters, Logan Fell and Andie Starr, attended.

                Jeremy sat awkwardly between Jenna’s boyfriend and his old high school history teacher, Alaric Saltzman, and his Uncle, John Gilbert. The two were glaring at each other over Jeremy’s head, both glowering and doing their best to ignore each other at the same time, jostling for the position of new Head of the family.

                Elena sighed. It was an incredibly awkward situation between herself, John, and Alaric, given the discovery she made regarding her past and family history. When she was seventeen, just about to head to Whitmore for her first semester, her parents took her to the Lake House while Jeremy spent a week with their maternal grandparents in Colorado.

                Her parents sat opposite Elena on a couch, clutching each other’s hands tightly. At first, Elena thought that there was a death in the family, or her parents were divorcing, but then realised that Jeremy would be with them for that. What her mother admitted, though, surprised Elena speechless.

                _You’re adopted_.

                Her father, Grayson, explained how his brother John fell in with Isobel Flemming when they were sixteen and she became pregnant. How Isobel gave her daughter up to Grayson and Miranda, who had been trying for a baby and couldn’t conceive; how just days later after Elena’s birth, Isobel disappeared from John’s life.

                Elena was stunned. Her biological father was her arrogant, shrewd, and cruel uncle, John. Her mother was a statistic and no longer in her uncle’s life and it was unknown if she was alive or dead. Jeremy was her cousin, not her brother.

                Then, they dropped the second revelation on Elena: vampires and other supernatural creatures existed. Jeremy wouldn’t be told until he was eighteen (Elena was special because she was going away to college), and Elena couldn’t tell him until then. Her parents showed her the stakes they had in the house; the crossbows, what vervain does to vampires, and what wolfsbane did to werewolves. They read her stories from her ancestor’s journal about the trapping of the vampires in the old, burned church.

                Elena didn’t believe it for a second. She was a modern girl, a product of the twenty-first century. She mentally made jokes about sparkly vampires and owning bars named Fangtasia. She humoured her parents, who took their job as a Founding Family (which was to eradicate all vampires from existence) far too seriously.

                Then, she got home and Bonnie told her that she was a witch. She ripped Elena’s pillow and made the feathers inside float. The two swore never to speak of the Founding Families and their genocidal goals ever again. Vampires were once people, too. And if there were bad people out there, just like there were good ones, it was a fair enough assessment to think there were bad and good vampires too.

                Life at Whitmore College took over and soon Elena pushed thoughts of vampires and werewolves and Bonnie as a witch behind her as she concentrated on writing styles, literary devices, and exposition. Elena’s mother gave Elena her first diary when she was young, about to start high school, and Elena never went a day without writing something in the leather-bound journal. Her writing gave her a sense of reflection and purpose and with her parents encouragement, Elena decided that English was her choice of major, with hopes of working at the Mystic Falls Tribute in the summer and once she graduated.

                When there were creative writing exercises, her parents suggested using her ancestor’s journals and that she write about vampires and the Mystic Falls history; whether Elena thought they were trying to encourage her to be more active with the Founding Families, or whether they wanted her teachers to think she was working on a fantasy novel, she never knew. Until her third year, Elena carefully and firmly rejected her parent’s suggestions – because in her third year, she met Alaric Saltzman.

                She was back in Mystic Falls for Reading Week, and Jeremy was gushing about his amazing twelfth grade history teacher, who took over for Coach Tanner when he decided that coaching the men’s football team was enough and he was ready to retire. Alaric was interested in the history of Mystic Falls as well, and when he, Miranda and Grayson began chatting about it at Jeremy’s Parent-Teacher interview night, it sparked a mutual, shared interest (although the supernatural stuff came later).

                Elena met Alaric when he joined the Gilberts at their house for dinner one night; he and Jenna immediately hit it off and Elena found him quite nice as well – until a random comment started Elena’s brain.

                “Did you grow up around here, Alaric?” Miranda had asked, passing over a large bowl filled with mashed potatoes to her husband, glancing at the history teacher as she did so.

                Alaric had laughed. “No,” he said, “I grew up in Boston. I attended Duke University in North Carolina and after gaining my teachers certificate, ended up in Washington DC for a few months and then Roanoke.”

                “My friend Caroline attends Duke,” Elena has said, reaching for her drink.

                “It’s a good university,” Alaric had admitted, although he looked awkward in doing so, like he was holding back. “I knew someone there who was a parapsychologist.”

                “Parapsychologist?” Jeremy had asked. “What’s that?”

                “Someone who studies and researches the effect that supernatural experiences have on humans,” Elena’s father Grayson had said evenly.

                “Like that show _Ghost Hunters_?” Jeremy had innocently asked.

                “Sorta,” Alaric had awkwardly interjected, before changing the conversation completely. “Gilbert is an old name – did you family settle here a long time ago?”

                And with that, Elena’s interested was sparked; for someone who knew about the supernatural world, Alaric’s rather hesitant and vague response made her think that he knew more than what was let on. A few weeks later, Jenna let slip over coffee at Thanksgiving that Alaric was previously married to a woman who grew up in the town over from Mystic Falls, but Isobel was dead.

                Knowledge of the supernatural; a dead wife named Isobel who came from a nearby town; a friend interested in parapsychology – Uncle John’s old girlfriend named Isobel from the town over, who went missing after Elena’s birth; the strange Jonathan Gilbert journals and the family ring her father/uncle wore...

                Elena couldn’t drive down to North Carolina to visit Caroline on a whim (they weren’t _that_ close that Caroline wouldn’t see through the ulterior motive without questioning it) and she didn’t have any university contacts. Bonnie, on the other hand, did: her grandmother Sheila was a visiting guest lecturer at Whitmore and shared an office with Atticus Shane, a fellow Occult and witch specialist who had contacts with others in similar, shared fields. He might know of Isobel.

                He did.

                “I remember her,” Shane said, as Bonnie and Elena sat across from him at his desk in a rather dark and over-flowing office. “She was interested in more than parapsychology – that was her PhD field, but her interests travelled more into the paranormal than psychological.”

                “How so?” asked Elena.

                Shane laced his fingers together and rested them atop of his desk, leaning forward to speak to the two girls. “She believed in vampires and werewolves. In witches and magic. She didn’t really participate in the academic community towards the end, before her disappearance. Stopped going to conferences, writing journals, you know – academic stuff. Instead, she spent her time travelling the States and Europe, following leads of old vampire stories and local histories of witch burnings.”

                He shrugged, sitting back against his chair. “Maybe she found something and was killed for her knowledge. Or maybe she just left – she and her husband had several domestics. Who knows?”

                “Do you have a picture of her?” Bonnie asked, when Elena failed to comment on Shane’s rather indecisive final say of the matter.

                Shane shook his head, his brown curls bobbing as he did so. “No,” he said. “But you can easily Google her and find her academic profile on the Duke website. Her graduate assistant still runs things out of her office. She’s the only one in the parapsychology department nowadays, anyway. Vanessa Monroe.”

                Feeling rather Nancy Drew, Bonnie and Elena returned to Mystic Falls and Googled “Isobel Flemming.” The search results yielded a young-looking woman with long, brown hair, cold brown eyes, and pale skin, who at twenty-nine, never returned home to her husband of seven years Alaric Saltzman. Articles detailing the disappearance chronicled her leaving an unstable home life, to being kidnapped and murdered. Elena wasn’t sure what she thought, but in the end, she knew what her birth mother looked like, knew that she was (technically? Possibly?) a step-daughter to Alaric, and that her parents could have found out about Isobel if they wanted to – it wasn’t like it was difficult to Google her or anything.

                Afterwards, Elena drifted from her parents, and even Jenna; she became more and more reliant on Alaric and his advice. They became good friends, it was Alaric’s influence, which helped Jeremy decide to attend an art college out of state versus remaining nearby, and attending medical school like Grayson wanted.

                 It was her gravitation towards the man who knew her birth mother that caused some of the contention between him and John Gilbert, who felt that Elena was throwing her true parent’s love and affection away for a substitute. That further bled into her guilt at their funeral, especially as she knew that Ric would never want her to choose between Grayson and Miranda or himself.

                The tension was visible for everyone at the funeral; it mattered not if it came from John and Alaric, or from Jeremy, or Vicky, or someone else; Elena could feel the heavy air, the breathless quality of it all, causing her to take deeper than normal breaths, to wipe her sweaty palms on her black dress.

                The past four years had been a rollercoaster of emotions, hidden secrets, and discoveries, since she learned she was adopted. She hoped the next four years wouldn’t be anything like that.

*

                Elena wasn’t entirely sure how she managed her last month at Whitmore, but she did. She had spent four years of her life working towards her English degree, and she wasn’t going to disrespect her parents’ memories by falling apart with four weeks of classes and two weeks of exam to go until she finished. While she was sure she’d never become a world-famous novelist, her mother encouraged her writing and diary-keeping, and her father never made her feel poorly for deciding against medicine.

                Summer, however, was a blur. She avoided Jenna, Alaric, and Matt – going so far as to break their relationship off; Jeremy avoided everyone and the last she knew, he was dating Matt’s sister Vicky. Bonnie would sit with Elena in her backyard, but her summer job working in the morning at her grandmother’s holistic shop and then in the evening with Professor Atticus Shane at Whitmore kept her busy. Caroline, who did her best to cheer Elena up when she didn’t want to be, was also busy working for the town in the city hall office. She had taken over many of the town’s responsibilities and liaised between the many charities in Mystic Falls (which she knew intimately inside and out) and the town to plan events.

                Elena found herself, quite often, at the cemetery where her parents were buried, staring at their grave, and wondering why she didn’t die with them. She was in the backseat, behind her mother; they had come to pick her up from a party she and Matt attended in Waynesboro when they argued and she required a new ride home.

                She remembered the throbbing pain of her head, as it hit the back of her mother’s headrest; she remembered the agony of _knowing_ she needed to take a breath but _knowing_ she couldn’t. She remembered her father turning in the front seat, his eyes locking on hers, both of them realising that that might be their last moments together. She remembered his hand reaching back over his shoulder to her...

                But then she was found on the far bank, shivering and wet and alone.

                Her parents drowned.

                Elena knew her mother was knocked unconscious and had probably drowned rather painlessly and quickly, given the situation; but her father was conscious and had attempted to unclip himself from his seat belt to reach her. If he managed, he would’ve been on the bank with her, even if he tried to go back for his wife. The car had hit the sandy bottom of the river – it was stuck and there was a very small current. So where was he? Why did he go back in?

                Elena was horribly confused and guilty. She was the one who made her parents come and get her, nearly an hour’s drive away from Mystic Falls because she freaked out when Matt began talking to her about marriage and forever and commitment. At twenty-one, she wasn’t ready for forever, yet.

                Hastily, Elena brought the heel of her right palm to her face and wiped the tears off her cheeks roughly. How dare she feel sorrow when she had no right?

                “Katherine?”

                Elena jumped, gasping as she spun to face the voice. Standing beside her, a few graves over, was a tall, handsome man with dark, nearly black hair, and very light blue eyes. He wore a dark jacket – leather – with a black shirt underneath and dark jeans. A rather extravagant ring on his thumb caught her attention and her eyes focused on it rather than his piercing eyes.

                “Katherine, where have you been? I’ve been looking for you,” the man continued, taking a step closer, keeping his eyes focused on her face. He frowned, noticing the tear tracks.

                Elena took a step back. She shook her head slowly. “My name is Elena.”

                The man stopped walking, the frown and confused look on his face fading away into a pleasant mask instead. “Sorry. I thought you were someone else.”

                “Yeah, I figured,” she replied softly, turning back to her parents’ headstone.

                She noticed him walk towards her out of the side of her eye. In response, Elena wrapped her arms around her torso tightly, chilled despite the rather balmy late-August weather.

                “Did you...” he cleared his throat, and she turned to face him. She felt a tiny shock of fear and thrill race through her as she realised just how tall and masculine he appeared close up. “Did you know them...?” He gestured to her parents’ grave.

                “They were my parents,” she answered, her voice bland. She was still having difficulty overcoming her role in their deaths, but she was numb to the consolations people continued to throw at her when they saw her pale and drawn face around Mystic Falls.

                The man closed his eyes, and bowed his head briefly. They stood in silence before he finally said, “My parents are buried here too.”

                Elena looked at him strangely. Was he trying to bond with her in the cemetery over the fact that their parents were both deceased?

                “It was a long time ago, though,” he continued, lost in his own thoughts.

                “Mine was barely five months ago,” Elena found herself saying.

                _What are you doing?_ She thought to herself, mentally whacking herself on her head. _Are we sharing sob stories about how our parents died?_

                The man cleared his throat. “I find that I only come back to Mystic Falls for funerals now. There are a lot of memories here.”

                “Problems with small towns,” agreed Elena, and the two shared a small smile.

                “Yeah, gossip,” he said, a tilt to his lips. He turned to face her.

                “The _nosiness_ ,” Elena bit back, turning to face him.

                “Lack of privacy,” he continued.

                “Oh, God, tell me about it,” moaned Elena, thinking back to the numerous times Jenna caught Matt sneaking out in the middle of the night.

                The man laughed, startling Elena. She peered up at him, and, amused by his amusement, began laughing too. It was funny to look back on.

                “I’m Damon,” the man said, extending a hand for her to take.

                “Nice to meet you, Damon,” replied Elena, shaking his hand. “Do you often begin conversations with people in cemeteries?”

                “Not usually. I come here mainly to hide the bodies,” he replied and she rolled her eyes.             

                “Ah, you’re one of those,” she mocked.

                He quirked his lips in response, and she took in a deep breath, letting it out slowly. It felt nice to laugh and joke about Mystic Falls without thinking painfully about her parents.

                “Thanks for making me laugh,” she said, tucking a strand of straight brown hair behind her ear. “It’s been a long time since I last did.”

                “I’m sorry to hear that,” Damon said quietly in response.

                “Me too,” breathed Elena.

                She was surprised by how contemplative and soothing the two of them, standing in silence, could be. She rarely felt comfortable around strangers – it was a small town issue – but with Damon, it seemed like he understood her. Or maybe, he understood the Katherine girl he thought she was and some of his familiarity transferred over. Feeling curious, she was about to ask about the girl she looked like, when he phone began to chirp out an incoming call ringtone.

                _Matt Donovan_ rolled across the screen and Elena winced. Since their rather awkward breakup a few weeks after her parents’ funeral, Elena had been avoiding Matt and the Mystic Grill, where he worked. Although initially respectful of her decision, Matt had slowly begun innocently calling and sending her texts, asking to hang out or meet up with Bonnie and Caroline for drinks.

                She wasn’t ready.

                She ignored the call and slipped the phone back into her skinny jeans pocket, squaring her jaw and rolling her tongue across the back of her bottom row of teeth in annoyance.

                “Boyfriend?” joked Damon.

                “Ex,” replied Elena. “We broke up after...”

                Damon seemed to understand. “So why did he call?”

                “He wanted something more from me than I was ready to give,” answered Elena quietly, her gaze fixed on a large angel statue far over Damon’s left shoulder and nestled underneath a willow tree. “We argued the night my parents died. We were at a party in Waynesboro and he wanted marriage and the future and I wasn’t ready. I walked away and my parents picked me up and on the way back, they—” She broke off and sniffed, her eyes darting back to the familiar headstone. “I guess I just don’t know what I want.”

                “That’s not true,” said Damon, just as quietly as she was speaking.

                Her head jerked from the headstone and her eyes caught his.

                “You want what everybody wants,” he continued. His blue eyes bore into her brown, electrifying her with his words. “You want a love that consumes you. You want passion, and adventure, and even a little danger.”

                She gave a tiny laugh. “Maybe I did then. But now? This changes you.”

                “Does it?” countered Damon, with a small smile.

                Elena immediately began to say “Of course it does,” but as soon as she opened her mouth, she stopped and really thought about it. Did her parents death change her desires and goals and dreams? Did she no longer wish to be a famous author? Did she no longer wish to spend time with Bonnie? Was she ready to give up everything her parents wanted for her because of her depression and guilt?

                Surprised at the direction her thoughts went to, she blinked in shock at Damon, whose small smile gentled.

                “You learn to live with it,” he said, referencing her parents. “But it doesn’t stop you, or hold you back. You just learn how to move forward with it.”

                “I guess so,” replied Elena, a smile growing on her face. She turned back to her parents’ grave, lightness in her that she hadn’t felt before. Maybe she was ready to move on now. She turned back to Damon to thank him. “Thanks so much—”

                He was gone, and she was alone in the cemetery.

*

                “How long are you gonna stay?” Zach asked, leaning against the doorframe as he watched his great-great-great-however many more times-uncle unpack his suitcase on his rather dusty bed.

                “I’m not sure yet,” the young man replied, glancing up from a pack of shirts he scooped into his hands.

                “Are you here for a reason then?” Zach continued. “Uncle Stefan, Mystic Falls has been quiet and peaceful for many decades – since your last time here in the fifties – and the Founding Families won’t want trouble. You should leave.”

                “I can’t,” Stefan argued, moving away from the bed to the large wardrobe. “There’s something a need to do here first.”

                “Do?”

                “Someone I need to see,” continued Stefan, hardly elaborating.

                Zach snorted, his arm muscles straining against his shirt as he crossed his arms. “Like I didn’t see you at the Gilbert funeral, Uncle Stefan. You were watching the family.”

                “Not the family,” the other man replied, absently, as he turned from the wardrobe to his rather cluttered desk. His fingers ghosted over the dusty, covered typewriter, the stack of hardcover books, to the open, gold, hinged two-panel photograph frame that lay on the desk.

                His fingers briefly touched the face of the young woman in the photograph: her coiled hair, her pouty lips in a small, cruel smile, the high-lace neck of her dress. Although the photo was black and white, Stefan could picture the woman in colour – and if he ever forgot, he just had to visit 2104 Maple Street and look at Elena Gilbert to see Katherine Pierce’s face.

                Zach signed. “So you’re not going to tell me how long you’re here for? I can’t keep the whole Founding Family council off your back if you start leaving bodies everywhere.”

                “I don’t do that,” Stefan said, glancing at Zach with flashing brown eyes, cautioning him to remember he was dealing with a hundred-year-plus vampire. “And like I said, I have something I need to figure out first.”

                _Like whether or not you’re just like Katherine, Elena. I need to know that you were worth saving._

*

 TBC...


	2. II

*

Two:

 

“I used to dream about escaping my ordinary life, but my life was never ordinary. I had simply failed to notice how extraordinary it was.” – Jacob, _Miss Peregrine’s Home for Peculiar Children_ by Ransom Riggs (2011)

*

_Mystic Falls_

_September – the Autumn Harvest Festival_

 

                Although it wasn’t her dream job, Caroline absolutely adored working at the city hall. The town council needed someone to liaise with Carol Lockwood, who was chair and president of almost every single charity and event organisation in town. Being the Mayor’s wife also helped her with maintaining that position, but Caroline had participated in every single Mystic Falls event since she was ten, and she knew the ropes for every one of them forwards and backwards and with her eyes closed.

                So, when she returned from Duke with her double degree, a strong reference from her internship, (and the nepotistic fact that she was from a Founding Family) the town decided to give her a position within the city. She even had her own office and department (she ignored the fact that she was the only one in her department)!

                No one bothered her. And if her office was really only the size of a small walk-in closet, it was _hers_. There was a window (which was the best thing about the box, in all honesty), she could fit a desk in the office, and there were enough outlet plugs for her laptop, a desk fan, and a rather stable internet connection so that when she completed all her work, she could catch up on episodes of _the Bachelorette_.

                Or daydream about Nik and his rather gorgeous abs... No. She wasn’t thinking about him and their amazing time six months previous.

                The best part of her job was, because she knew all the events so well, she completed her work quickly and with no one coming to check in on her, Caroline was getting paid (peanuts, of course, slightly more than minimum wage for a public sector position) to sit around and play solitaire or stream TV shows.

                But with the upcoming Autumn Harvest Festival, Caroline knew she had to step up her game or else she’d lose her position – and that was non-negotiable.

                The Autumn Harvest Festival ran the first week of September. It mainly involved apple picking in the orchards on the outside of town, apple pie and turnover baking contests, community spirit and a back-to-school bonfire and carnival for the Mystic Falls students. Caroline was in charge of running between Carol Lockwood and her decisions and the town for approval; she was also given the baking contest portion to organise on her own, as well as the back-to-school bonfire and carnival. It was an astronomical headache from the beginning to the end, but Caroline was given a chance she wouldn’t fuck up.

                “I’m going to need transport to the Walters farm,” said Caroline, into her office phone. It was cradled between her head and shoulder as she typed something on her iMac. “At least three buses rotating on a twenty-minute cycle between the town and the orchard. That way, people can come and go between all activities without clogging up Route 67.”

                She nodded, despite her contact being unable to see her, and hummed. Finally, she reached for a bright pink pen and began scribbling on a conveniently placed notepad. “Yeah? Thanks. I’d really appreciate it if you could work something out with the town’s transportation depo. It would be fabulous if it all worked out. Let me know by Thursday? Perfect. Thanks. Bye.”

                Caroline released a long, extended sigh, hanging up the phone. A glance at the overly large silver and grey Tag Heuer watch on her left wrist made Caroline smile – it was five and quitting time. She began packing her laptop up into a hot pink protective squishy case, slipped that, along with her notepad and pencil case, into a large black tote, and reached for her chic-looking black blazer.

                As she exited her office and locked it, she began scrolling through her iPod playlist, picking a K-Pop artist her roommate from Duke hooked her on. Caroline’s smart black stilettos rapped along the smooth tile as she began walking down the hall to the front entrance.

                One of the nicest features of the city hall was the large dome skylight in the entrance hall, where the main receptionist, a Fell cousin or niece three times-half removed (there were **loads** of them in Mystic Falls), usually sat. Instead, the flighty girl had left either before, or immediately at, five, leaving the front desk empty and unattended despite the city hall remaining open until six. Normally, in small town Mystic Falls, that wasn’t an issue – but today, there was someone at the desk, flipping through a sign-in logbook.

                Caroline immediately noticed that he was around the same height as Nik, and then couldn’t stop the comparisons. Where Nik was blond, this man had dark brown hair. Nik had electric blue eyes; he had green, similar to Caroline’s own shade. The man was pale, with a classic, European look to him. He wore stonewashed denim jeans with a creamy brown button-down Oxford with the sleeves rolled up.

                “Hi,” said Caroline, peering at him curiously. “Blair’s usually at her desk, but since she’s apparently gone home early, is there anything I can help you with?”

                The man smiled, holding a bunch of papers in his right hand. “I’m updating my address with the town.”

                Caroline sighed. “Blair wouldn’t have been able to help you out, then. You’ll want Hannah Campbell’s office, in Human Resources. But they have different hours. You should come back tomorrow morning and try then.”

                “I guess I will then,” he replied.

                Caroline noted that his voice remained constant; a strange quality that she didn’t quite like or understood, one that caused her to wonder why he didn’t add many inflections or tonalities to his voice. She overly used inflections – allowing her voice to jump in cadence to lowering her register; even Nik changed his voice depending on his mood or his words ( _again!? Why was she thinking of her sexy British hookup in Paris?)._

                When the man failed to leave the front register, Caroline found herself asking, “You said you’re updating your address. Are you new in town?”

                “Kind of,” he replied. “I used to live her but moved away. I spent some time in Chicago and New Orleans, actually.”

                “I guess you won’t need someone to show you around town,” Caroline offered, a smile on her face. Her flirtatious tone didn’t overtly suggest her interest in him – she was secretly afraid Nik had ruined her for all other men until the end of time – but a good-looking man was standing in front of her, and Caroline couldn’t resist. She did always enjoy the warm fuzzies of a man noticing her and paying her attention – especially now that she was back in Mystic Falls.

                The man’s smile tightened slightly, and his eyes – a mossy green – darkened as they shielded themselves from her. “Maybe some other time,” he said instead.

                Caroline felt the sting of rejection, but it didn’t cripple her – didn’t she have that hot and heavy, steamy, sexier than moulding clay together ala _Ghost_ , no holds barred, best night of her life in Paris just half a year ago? She didn’t need some loser in her life when she had those memories. She shrugged.

“Whatever,” she replied. “Good luck getting your forms filled tomorrow. Hannah’ll be in by ten.” With that, she turned on her heels, popped her earbuds back in, and left the city hall for the parking lot and her Ford Fiesta.

                Bonnie had text her earlier, asking to meet for coffee at the Grill, and Caroline agreed; she hadn’t seen Bonnie in weeks, given how busy she was with the Autumn Harvest. It was also a nice change for Bonnie to send her a text message instead of Caroline doing the chasing – but more likely, Elena was busy.

                Caroline parked in a space behind the Mystic Grill, an area designated for all the businesses along the Main Street. The old building used to be the town jail, but was converted in the nineteen thirties into a diner when migrants came looking for jobs in the rural areas of the state. Its long history was something Caroline enjoyed about the small town: almost every building had a past and almost everything in the town looked picturesque or straight out of _Pleasantville_ or _Leave It to Beaver_.

                Bonnie was sitting outside, in the space in front of the doors and front windows, which was turned into a patio during the spring and summer. She was facing Caroline, but looking down at her phone, her left hand winding around a piece of curly black hair.

                “Hey Bon!” greeted Caroline, as she sunk into the free seat opposite.

                Bonnie looked up, a smile on her face and in her light brown – almost whisky coloured – eyes. “Hi, Care. Did you know that Mystic Falls is going to get a Starbucks?”

                Caroline sat up straighter in her seat. “ _Seriously_? That’s insane. I knew we had it coming, though, when Whitmore got a Wal-Mart two years ago.”

                The two fell silent, each looking at the small menu available on a flip board on the tabletop. As they waited for their friend Matt to appear and take their order, Bonnie made small conversation. “Have you heard from... um... the guy from Paris?”

                “Nik?” Caroline shook her head. “No. But I knew when I was at the airport that it would be his decision. He’s far more neurotic than I am.”

                “Oh,” replied Bonnie, glancing back down and playing with the frayed edge of the menu.

                “But,” continued Caroline, absently, “I’ve been thinking about him all day. So maybe that’s a sign!”

                “Maybe,” concurred Bonnie, with a smile.

                At that point, Matt exited the front door of the Grill and approached the table in his white button-up and black uniform trousers. A pad and pen were ready once he stopped at their side. “Hey Bon, Care. What can I get you?”

                “Hi Matt,” began Bonnie, “How’s Vicki? Is she any better?”

                Matt nodded. “Heard about that, already, did you?”

                Caroline’s head popped up. “What? What happened?”

                Matt sighed. “Vicki was attacked by an animal Tuesday night. She was hanging out with her _friends_ ,” the word was said with distaste, indicating what type of friends Matt saw them as, “in the cemetery where they hang out by an abandoned mausoleum. It went right for her neck and she bled a lot, but she’s recovering in the hospital now.”

                “I’m so sorry to hear that Matt!” gapped Caroline, surprised she hadn’t heard anything while working in the city hall. Small towns were great sources of gossip, and the city hall was where most originated from. “Does she need anything? Spare clothes, favourite snacks, _Cosmo_?”

                “No,” laughed Matt, “But I’ll ask her when I see her later tonight.”

                “Thanks,” agreed Caroline, and Bonnie also echoed the sentiment.

                “Right, so what can I get you Bonnie?”

                “I’ll take a shot of espresso and biscotti.” She said, pushing the flippy menu to Caroline to look at, now that she was done.

                “Sure thing,” he said, glancing at his pad to write it and then turning to Caroline. “Care?”

                Caroline beamed up at him. “Mocha iced coffee.”

                When Matt didn’t respond to Caroline’s order, she peered at him from under her lashes in surprise, only to find his eyes locked on something across the street. Caroline and Bonnie shared a confused look, before Caroline turned in her seat and began searching for what caught Matt’s attention.

                “You have _got_ to be kidding me!” burst out of her mouth before she could censor it.

                Standing in the town square, across from the Grill, and at the base of a World War 2 memorial, Elena stood awfully close to the man who Caroline met earlier at the city hall. He was leaning down to her, invading her space and Elena was letting him. Although they were too far away to hear, what was said between the two, Caroline could read their body language – and Elena was flirting.

                “Who is that?” asked Bonnie, leaning to the side of her chair to get a better view, her own face half-struck between curious and horrified.

                “Some new guy,” muttered Caroline. “I saw him not even thirty minutes ago at work. Needed to update his address since he was living outside of Mystic Falls for a few years. So I asked him if he needed a tour guide, ‘coz things change. Turned me down _flat_. Guess he was just waiting for Elena.”

                The bitter tone didn’t hide the disappointment and annoyance that Caroline felt. Once again, she was second best behind Elena and she didn’t even know it. Maybe that’s why she was thinking of Nik all day; he was the only man in her life who picked _her_ first and she was subconsciously preparing herself for the inevitable heartbreak that Mystic Falls would deliver.

                “Caroline...” chastised Bonnie quietly, with a flicker of her eyes up to Matt, who was still looking at the two in shock.

                “Come off it, Bonnie,” snapped Caroline back, her tone visibly shaking Matt, whose eyes darted between the two girls. “It’s _always_ Elena. It always has been.”

                “It’s not some competition between the two of you,” argued Bonnie gently.

                “Really?” snorted Caroline, reaching down and grabbing her tote. “You could’ve fooled me. But then again, _you_ are her best friend. Not me.” She stood, and yanked the bag up and onto her shoulder, a dirty glance thrown over it as she eyed the man and Elena again. She paused briefly, but then muttered, “Sorry, Matt,” to him and to Bonnie, “I’ve lost my appetite. See you.”

                With that, she turned and left the Grill, walking back towards her car. She didn’t need this. She didn’t need the shit that was Elena drama. Yeah, she lost her parents; it was tragic. Once again, the world revolved around her and Caroline was sick of it.

                Over the course of the Autumn Festival, and from her position as the event show runner, Caroline had very little time to dwell upon Elena’s new friend and Matt’s heartbreak. Caroline was sure that he was thinking they’d get back together, after enough mourning time passed for Elena... but perhaps there was more to Elena and Matt’s breakup than what Caroline and Bonnie knew.

                Regardless, Caroline focused on creating a fantastic back-to-school and autumn even, one that went off without a hitch and led to an event promotion.

                As the previous Miss Mystic Falls for three years in a row, Carol Lockwood decided to hand over planning of the Founder’s Party to Caroline, when the nominees for Miss Mystic Falls were announced. The honour was huge, considering the event took place _in_ the Lockwood mansion and was the first big “adult” event of the season.

                Caroline immediately started on it, working straight up until the twentieth – what would be her twenty-second birthday. She took the day off as a present to herself.

                The morning of September 20th, Caroline woke to sunshine, bird chirping, a fresh breeze on the air that signalled the coming of winter, and an empty house.

                No card, no cake, no note from her mother, other than she was patrolling and would be back late.

                Caroline plastered a smile on her face, ignoring the tug in her chest from her absent mother. Instead, she picked up her phone as she nursed a tea in the kitchen and checked for messages. She had a lovely animated card sent from Steven, her father’s husband and their adopted twelve-year-old daughter Melanie, and a quick message from her father wishing her well, but that he wouldn’t be by to see her due to business.

                Matt sent: _Happy 22nd Caroline! XOXO_

                No one else did.

                Feeling rather sorry for herself, Caroline took in a deep breath, firmed her jaw and muttered, “Fuck it,” before reaching for her car keys. Some serious retail therapy was required. With that in mind, she drove from Mystic Falls into the nearest, larger town which had a shopping mall and spent nearly three hours wandering up and down the indoor mall, looking at shirts and dresses and shoes. She finally ended up in a spa, receiving a mani/pedi combo and ranting at the poor woman who sat on a stool before her, making sympathetic _tsk_ ing noises in all the right spots.

                Two hours later, Caroline was back in Mystic Falls, her stomach grumbling for her forgoing of breakfast and lunch. However pretty her nails were, and however awesome the new dress she bought looked, it didn’t make up for the fact that Elena and Bonnie couldn’t be bothered to wish her a happy birthday, or that her own mother forgot about her.

                _The Grill it is_ , she thought and parked her car behind the building. She entered, eyes darting left and right to try to spot either Elena or Bonnie, but neither were in. Matt was cleaning a glass from behind the bar, so Caroline headed over.

                “Did you get my text?” he asked, coming around and drawing her into a tight hug. “Happy birthday, Care!”

                “Thanks, Matt,” whispered Caroline, into his neck as she squeezed tightly and took a deep breath of his cologne in, comforting her in its familiarity.

                 “So what did you get?” he asked as they drew away from each other.

                Caroline bit her lip, unsure if she should lie or not. Luckily, a patron at the bar caught Matt’s attention and he apologetically left her, standing by the bar without giving an answer.

                Sighing, she moved to a two-person table and took a deep breath. Surely numerous people were alone on their birthdays?

                From inside her purse, her phone beeped, alerting her to an incoming text. Caroline twisted in her seat, digging through the tote bag and pulling the phone out with little fanfare. It was a bit late for someone to remember her birthday now!

                However, the long, unknown number scrawled across the screen had her pausing, before opening it.

                _Happy birthday, sweetheart. Sorry the wishes are so late – got caught up in some business. Here’s to twenty-three amazing years and many, many more to come. – Nik_

                A smile broke across Caroline’s face. The first contact in six months and he sent a birthday message! They had never spoken about their birthdays. She could only assume that he either Googled her with her full name and found out her birthday from a Facebook page, or from the Mystic Falls High School alumni page the town set up. Either way, he looked her up.

                Quickly, despite what was likely to be a horrifically expensive message, Caroline typed back: _Thank you so much, Nik! I LOVED hearing this from you. XX_

                The smile remained on her face, despite the melancholia she felt about her family and so-called friends. Matt delivered her a complementary cocktail for her birthday, on the house, and she appreciated the gesture more than she could ever say – especially as his eyes softened when they realised she was alone and no one was going to join her for dinner or drinks.

                “I’ll see you when my shift is done, okay?” he said softly, before moving away to bus a table.

                Caroline nodded.

                Alone again, she began playing with her straw, swirling it around the drink and sighing heavily. No more messages from Nik came through; Bonnie and Elena sent nothing; and her mother didn’t call or text to indicate what time she’d be done work. Once again, Caroline wasn’t first in someone’s life and she hated that Mystic Falls reminded her of that.

                Her eyes slowly rose from her pity drink, looking around for Matt to let him know she was going to go home and not to wait, when she stopped on a man sitting directly opposite her, several tables away.

                Incredibly handsome with dark black hair and brilliantly blue eyes (like Nik’s, only, not as nice), wearing a black jacket and black shirt underneath it, raised his tumbler at her with a small smirk as a mocking salute.

                And Caroline felt her lips stretch into a small smile. Maybe she wouldn’t be alone on her birthday night, after all.

*

                “Bastard!”

                Elena jumped, glancing over her shoulder at Jenna as she threw her popcorn bowl at the TV screen in a fit of rage.

                While her aunt was hardly a calm person, her temper tantrums weren’t normally this explosive. As a guest lecturer at Whitmore, she needed to keep her temper around her students or risk an early suggestion of dismissal without reference.

                “What’s up?” Elena asked, moving from the kitchen into the room, and leaning on the back of the couch as she peered at her aunt, who had taken up living in the Gilbert house since her sister and brother-in-law’s deaths.

                “Logan Fell, that’s what,” muttered Jenna, absently smoothing a wayward strand of brown hair as she snarled at the screen.

                “I figured. What did that TV ever do to you, though?” teased Elena, moving away from the back of the couch to sit next to her aunt.

                “Ugh,” began Jenna, rolling her eyes. “He’s the reason I left Mystic Falls to study. Well, him and a leggy blonde.”

                “For shame!” gasped Elena, though her eyes were scrunched up in merriment. “Doesn’t matter anyway, you’re dating the sexy history teacher, Alaric Saltzman, remember?”

                “Yeah, yeah,” muttered Jenna, turning away from the TV to look down at the box in Elena’s hands. “What’s all that, then?”  
                “Mrs. Lockwood,” began Elena, smoothing the edges of the box as she looked down at it. “Mom promised her some of the Gilbert antique pieces for the auction at the Founder’s Party tomorrow night. I was going to bring them over this afternoon.”

                Jenna reached in and began playing with the smooth, silver, and round Gilbert pocket watch Grayson used to carry around.

                “She shouldn’t have them.”

                Elena and Jenna tilted their heads up to look at Jeremy, standing behind the couch and staring hatefully down at Elena. He was griping his Coke bottle tightly, knuckles turning white and his entire jaw was clenched tight.

                “Jer...”

                “No, Elena,” the young man snapped, his nostrils flaring. “Those are _ours_ and Mrs. Lockwood shouldn’t have them for the auction. They’re our families, and they’re not meant to leave it.”

                “It’s what mom wanted,” argued Elena, standing from the couch to stare at her brother.

                The two siblings glared at each other, both flushed as the heated words raised their ever-present anxieties and emotions. Jeremy hadn’t handled their parents passing well, retreating in his room once the school semester – his first at his art school in Colorado – was over, and rarely leaving it. As an eighteen year old, neither Jenna nor Elena had any control over when Jeremy did leave the house, which was usually between the hours of eleven and twelve in the evening, and barely returning before sunrise; Jeremy was often out all night and most of the day, crashing on his bed around two, only to repeat the action.

                The doorbell interrupted the two; Jenna rose, murmuring, “I’ll get it,” and leaving them heatedly staring.

                “It’s just a pocket watch, Jeremy!” snapped Elena, her brown eyes meeting his.

                “It’s dad’s pocket watch, Elena, and he promised to give it to _me_ for my eighteenth birthday, which if you don’t remember – and you don’t since I didn’t get a _happy birthday_ from you – was three months ago!”

                Elena reeled back, shocked. Both her and Jeremy’s birthday were a month apart – hers in June, and his in July – but with the death of their parents in March, neither felt like celebrating and she hadn’t even mentioned anything on his birthday after the massive fuck up that her twenty-second birthday party was (she spent the majority of it crying in the Grill bathroom, thoroughly annoying Caroline who planned it as a means for her to leave the house; upsetting Bonnie, Matt and Jenna; and Jeremy never showed). 

                “Elena?”

                Elena turned, her eyes still wide from her surprise at Jeremy, to face her aunt and the guest. Standing next to her in the hallway was Stefan Salvatore, Zach’s nephew. Elena met him a few weeks ago, near the town square. He was having car trouble when she walked by, and his cursing and moody frown caught her attention.

                She’d asked if everything was fine; he replied that his engine blew up and now he was stuck walking to his uncle’s. She suggested Peter Harding’s car shop and gave him the phone number, and after he called, he asked her out for a coffee in thanks. She said yes, and then they were suddenly talking about anything and everything and Elena had never felt so alive (although a part of her said, yes you were; remember your friend in the cemetery?).

                She and Stefan spent the last two weeks texting and calling each other back and forth, getting to know each other more. She was falling for him, interested in his grave, still personality and the secrets of his past continued to haunt him, just as her past haunted her – but she wasn’t naive enough to think that they were equal. For someone just out of college, Stefan’s shoulders were heavy with something dark.

                None of that mattered. She was attracted to him – ready to move on from Matt and her friends’ constant attention and ready to take some “me” time. So she did.

                Making out with Stefan on her bed was like being back in high school. His weight crushed against her, covering her entire body and warming her from the inside. His hands never strayed though – they remained at her waist, clenching and unclenching against her hip, smoothing the fabric of her top that rode up back down, or skimming the curve of her hip but never venturing farther.

                His lips were like lightning, though; firm, hard, demanding and then suddenly soft, fluttering, barely there as they moved against hers, tasting her breath and stealing it, down to her neck where they lightly pressed and skimmed.

                Elena was in heaven. Her eyes were closed and her head tilted back, breathless sighs escaped her mouth and she arched her back to press tighter against Stefan. Then, his warmth and presence disappeared and he was half-way across her room, his back facing her and his hands up by his head.

                “What is it? What’s wrong?” she asked, glancing mindfully at her half-closed door. “Did you hear something?”

                Jenna had taken Jeremy out for Aunt-Nephew bonding in an attempt to get him to return to Colorado for his art program.

                “No, no,” rasped Stefan, before taking a few more deep breaths. He then turned around and smiled at Elena. “I’m fine, sorry about that. It’s a bit quick, though.”

                “Sorry!” Elena gave an embarrassed titter. Normally she’d be slowing the men down, not speeding them up.

                “No problem,” smiled Stefan, rejoining Elena on the bed, who sat up at his approach. They shared easy, if not embarrassed smiles.

                “Hey, are you free tomorrow night?” asked Elena, suddenly.

                “Tomorrow night?” Stefan’s brows furrowed. “Yeah, I am.”

                “Great!” enthused Elena. “Did you want to be my date at the Founder’s Party? I know it’s short notice and all, but I was planning on going alone since I need to represent my mom.”

                Stefan slowly nodded. “Huh. I didn’t realise they still do that.”

                “Do what? The Founder’s Party? Have you been to one before?”

                Stefan’s lips twisted into an awkward smile that immediately made Elena feel guilty. “Salvatore’s don’t get invitations anymore. It’s been a long time.”

                Elena’s doe eyes turned flirty and sly, and Stefan took in a sharp breath as he peered at her. “Maybe we’ll have to refresh your memory then,” she murmured, the mood instantly changing.

                “Maybe you’ll have to,” he murmured back, eyes dark on hers as they leaned back in for another kiss.

*

                Bonnie was sitting on Elena’s bed, watching Elena as she primped, tucked, and fluffed in front of her dresser mirror. The girl was spending far too much time on pushing her breasts up than Bonnie was thinking was acceptable for a first date.

                “Seriously,” Bonnie groaned, “If he’s looking at your boobs instead of your face, he’s not the type of guy you should be dating, Elena.”

                “Maybe I want him to be that type of guy,” she absently responded, tilting her head to the side, and pursing her lips. “Matt was all... American and clean-cut and the football quarterback. Perfect. Predictable. Stefan’s all broody and mysterious and it’s different in a kind of exciting way. Maybe I want a passionate, dangerous relationship for a change.”

                As soon as she said the words, it wasn’t Stefan’s face that flashed in front of her, but rather the tall, handsome black-haired and blue-eyed stranger from the cemetery. She mentally shook it off and fiddled with an earring.

                Bonnie rolled her eyes and flopped back on the bed, looking at the ceiling.

“So what was this big secret of Stefan’s you wanted to share with your best friend?” Elena asked, turning from the mirror. With a smile, she raced over and flopped onto the bed, landing next to Bonnie. The girls shared a giggle.

                “So,” began Bonnie, in a low voice. “It turns out that Stefan has a brother. And that both of them were interested in the same girl, but she chose _Damon_ over his brother and Stefan has since then been on his case and driving him batty.”

                “Really?” asked Elena, sceptically. She frowned as her eyes travelled to the ceiling. “That doesn’t sound like Stefan. He’s really... calm. Laid back. Who told you this?”

                “Caroline,” answered Bonnie. “You know she hears everything and anything where she works, and the guy she’s seeing knows Stefan.”

                “She’s seeing someone?” Elena gapped, sitting up quickly and looking down at Bonnie in shock. “What happened to her Parisian hottie?”

                “He sent her a birthday message but that was it,” answered Bonnie, who then, also sitting up, flushed with shame and glanced away from Elena. Both she and the Gilbert girl had forgotten about Caroline on her birthday, instead spending the time together and Elena introduced her to Stefan over a homemade dinner at Elena’s. Caroline never said anything, but Matt had cornered Bonnie the day after, chewing her out and since then, the two girls were grovelling to Caroline’s good graces.

                “Oh,” replied Elena, just as quietly. No matter how much she had resented Caroline’s peppiness during the summer, Caroline had been there for her; Elena just wasn’t there in return. She cleared her throat. “You know, that’s only Caroline’s guy’s side of the story. We don’t know that it’s true.”

                “We don’t know that it’s false, either,” commented Bonnie pointedly. “Until you hear it from Stefan, you’ll need to be open that he might not be who you think he is. He might have secrets.”

                “Please,” said Elena, with a very Caroline eye-roll. “This _town_ is a secret. Vampires? Werewolves? _Witches_ ,” she finished with a pointed look. “I wouldn’t be surprised if someone said that Bigfoot exists.”

                Bonnie hummed in agreement, and then asked, “What are you going to do about the pocket watch?”

                Elena sighed, standing and smoothing down her dress, ruffling the wrinkles free. Bonnie also stood from the bed and copied her. “I think I’ll just leave it. I’ll make up a lie to Mrs. Lockwood. If dad promised it to Jer, then Jeremy should have it. I won’t take that from him.”

                Bonnie smiled at her best friend.

                Elena took a deep breath, threw her hands out at the side, and asked, “Well? How do I look?”

                “He’s gonna look at you like you’re Little Red and he’s the Bad Wolf,” commented Bonnie with a leer, making Elena laugh.

                “Well, hopefully he’s not!” she chuckled. “I don’t know how I’d get a werewolf boyfriend past Jenna or Ric, to be honest.”

                “Well, it would be better than a vampire,” joked Bonnie, and the two left the room to wait for Stefan to pick her up; Bonnie would take her car, which she drove over to Elena’s. “Then Ric would have to stake him, and then where would your relationship be at?”

*

                _The Founder’s Party was a work of art_ , Elena had to admit. Caroline really knew her stuff when she was planning high school prom or when she did the decades dances, but ever since she returned from Duke, Caroline’s parties were far superior to her high school dreams and aspirations.

                The Lockwood ballroom looked as though it was out of a painting; the large, glass-lined windows were thrown open and gauzy, white drapes swayed in the gentle, cool October breeze, which was soothing for the numerous couples dancing on the polished marble floor to the nine-piece orchestra band. The band was on a raised platform, out of the way and tucked into a corner where their music bounced off the walls and could be heard from anywhere in the ground floor and Lockwood gardens, just outside the ballroom.

                Gold and silver streamers hung from the two large chandeliers in the ballroom, coiled, twisted, and crisscrossed over each other before meeting at the corners of the room and snaking halfway down the wall. Helium-filled silver and gold balloons floated and bounced gently off the tray ceiling.

                A modern-looking, glass bar at the opposite end of the orchestra was stocked and filled to the brim with a multitude of alcoholic beverages and mixes, and numerous black-jacket clad men and women with silver trays floated around the ground floor and gardens with gold-tinted champagne, h’ors devours and finger foods.

                Caroline had already arrived, Elena noted, and was dancing close to the open garden windows with a tall, black-haired man, wearing all black, who had his back to her. Caroline was wearing a white knitted cardigan over a white top-dress with a silver leaf-design, one that matched the silver colour of the decorations. Caroline’s hair was beautifully done up – a braid wrapped around the crown of her head while the rest of her wheat-coloured hair flowed naturally and loose; the only strange addition to her outfit was the light-blue scarf around her neck with the large white flower decal.

                Elena glanced down at her tight, red-orange-yellow and gold-highlight floral dress, and its sweeping décolleté, tightly hugging her breasts and presenting them obviously. The locket Stefan had given her hung low and had the neckline been higher, Elena could’ve tucked it into the dress instead; she was suddenly second-guessing her decision for the tight, revealing dress after noticing Caroline’s conservative, sweet look that screamed “mature adult here!” versus her “I’m totally trying to get laid” look.

                Fighting a grimace, Elena tapped Stefan on the arm, and nodded in Caroline’s direction. “Let’s go say hello,” she suggested. “I want to tell Caroline how amazing this all looks.”

                Stefan shrugged, and began leading them around the edge of the dance floor until they came to an abrupt halt before the laughing couple. 

                “ _Damon_?” gapped Stefan.

                “Hi, Elena,” chirped Caroline.

                “Brother,” purred Damon, his eyes firmly fixed on Stefan.

                “Cemetery guy!” gapped Elena, making everyone turn to her in disbelief.

                Damon’s eyes widened before they narrowed. “Elena. The girl who _isn’t_ Katherine.” His eyes turned back to his brother. “Of course you would be escorting her to the Founder’s Party, since you missed the opportunity the first time.”

                Both Elena and Caroline looked confused at the conversation, while Stefan’s jaw was clenched tightly.

                “Stefan, right?” asked Caroline, turning to the other man. “How about a dance?”

                Looking vaguely trapped, but accommodating, he nodded and swept Caroline onto the dance floor, leaving Elena and Damon to look at each other.

                “Are you going to bid on anything?” asked Damon, finally, and gestured towards the front of the ballroom where a table, lined with items, including some Elena brought over the day previous, stood.

                Elena shook her head. “I’m not interested. Are you?”

                The two began walking over to the display, which included a framed copy of the original Founding Families and their signatures at the first Founder’s Party. Elena bent at the waist to examine it closer.

                “Oh, look,” she said, pointing, “There’s my great-great-great-grandfather. And Caroline’s ancestor, William Forbes. Oh! And the first mayor, Benjamin Lockwood.” She peered closer. “And hey, isn’t that... Damon and Stefan Salvatore?”

                “My ancestors,” replied Damon blandly. “Stefan and I are named after them.”

                “I know family names are popular, but wow, talk about it,” said Elena, with a smile on her face. Inwardly, an alarm was blaring loudly. Two men who shared the same name over three generations? Men who were part of the _Founding Families_ of Mystic Falls, who knew about vampires and werewolves? Mistaking Elena for someone else? Her bullshit alarm began ringing louder.

                She glanced at Caroline, who was standing next to Stefan at the bar. He handed her a drink, and with a smile, the blonde accepted. Elena uttered a muffled squeak of horror at the sight – what was Caroline _thinking_ , taking a drink from him? Didn’t her parents tell her about the Founding Families when she turned eighteen?

                Damon turned to see what caught Elena’s attention, and then frowned. “You don’t need to worry about Stefan making a move on Caroline. We might be cursed with sibling rivalry, but you can be certain that he’s interested in _you_ and not her.”

                Oh, like _that_ made Elena feel better.

                As calmly as she could, Elena ventured, “You never did say... how old was Katherine when she passed away? It was TB, right?”

                Damon gave her a strange look. “She was young, barely eighteen. And it wasn’t tuberculosis; she died in a fire in a church, along with twenty-six others.”

                Elena swallowed heavily. The only fire she knew of, in Mystic Falls’ history that involved twenty-six others, was the Battle of Willow Creek... that was the Founding Families’ alternate history of the burning of twenty-six _vampires_.

                Elena did her best to not hyperventilate. Damon and Stefan were the same Damon and Stefan Salvatores from the 1800s. They were vampires. The girlfriend they were fighting over was a vampire. Holy fuck.

                “Well, let’s go rescue our dates, then, shall we?” asked Elena, instead of the “ _OMG HOLY SHIT THIS IS UNREAL!”_ that wanted to escape her mouth.

                Damon gave her another strange look, but offered her his arm. She took it, almost gingerly, but gave him a tight smile and they made their way to Caroline and Stefan, who were awkwardly speaking. Stefan look relieved at their arrival, making Elena flush with hurt anger for her friend, whose scarf was beginning to make sense, given her date was a vampire. Caroline didn’t deserve that treatment; not after her dubious dating history, and her amazing Paris hookup.

                Everyone treated Caroline poorly. Elena included. And she was now paying for it with the knowledge of who and what Caroline’s date was and unable to say anything without tipping them off and possibly killing her, or Caroline in a fit of anger.

                “Shall we dance?” Elena asked instead, turning to Stefan, who gave her a wide smile and led her to the dance floor.

                The moved gracefully – that was the Miss Mystic Falls training she and Caroline had – but Elena was unable to relax as she kept an eye on Caroline and Damon, who was leading the blonde from the ballroom.

                “Is everything okay? I apologise if my brother said anything upsetting,” said Stefan, but Elena barely heard him. Her eyes were wildly searching the ballroom, hoping that Bonnie was there. It wasn’t like it was difficult to miss the pretty girl – she was wearing a white dress after Labour Day and was the only person brave enough to do so.

                “Um, yeah,” Elena absently replied, her eyes finally catching Bonnie, who stood near the doorway with a champagne flute in her hand. “Sorry, Stefan, I’ve got to go to the toilet.”

                Stefan gallantly released Elena from their dance, and she practically marched across the dance floor, regardless of whom she bumped into, until she reached Bonnie’s side and tightly wrapped a hand around her wrist.

                “What the hell, Elena?!” bit Bonnie, frowning as her friend dragged her into the nearest toilet, shut the door, locked it, and then turned the hot and cold taps on full blast.

                “Bonnie,” began Elena, a wide-eyed look on her pale face, making Bonnie shut up immediately. “Stefan and Damon are _vampires_.”

                “Shut the front door.”

                “I’m _serious_ ,” continued Elena, clasping Bonnie’s shoulders in her hands. “I saw their names on the Heritage Document. They’re the _same people_. And Caroline came with Damon! She’s got a scarf around her _neck_ , Bonnie!”

                Bonnie began breathing in heavily, flapping her hands. “Okay, okay, oh shit, oh shit. What are we going to do? I don’t know any spells to take down a vampire! I can barely light a fucking candle!”

                “I dunno!” Elena nearly shrieked back. “Caroline can’t go home with Damon, she just _can’t_. I haven’t been that good of a friend for her lately, but I won’t let her be some vampire’s snack!”

                Bonnie and Elena stared at each other, ignoring the rushing sound of the water in the sink and the low murmur of party guests outside of the toilet.

                “They can’t know that _we_ know what they are,” said Elena lowly, firmly. “We’ll just need to stay ahead of them.”

                Bonnie ran her hands through her hair. “Jesus Christ, I thought Caroline was from a Founding Family. Shouldn’t she _know_?”

                Elena rolled her eyes. “You’ve _met_ her parents. Her father is never around, and her mother is a workaholic. It’s no wonder what she left Mystic Falls as soon as she could, Bon. And since she went away to college, we can assume Sherriff Forbes never told her when she was eighteen, the age Jer and I were when we were told. She rarely came back after her first year, too, remember?”

                “So, what’s the plan?” asked Bonnie.

                “Let’s find Caroline and then take her home. Girls’ night, we’ll say,” suggested Elena. “You’ve got your car, right?”

                Bonnie nodded.

                Elena took a deep breath. “So we’ll leave as soon as we get her. Even if she doesn’t want to go.”

                The two girls shared a look, a nod, and then Elena turned off the taps and Bonnie opened the door, both of them smoothing their dressed and hair, fussing as they exited the bathroom.

                Stefan stood across, leaning against the wall casually. “Why women go to the bathroom in pairs will always be a mystery to me.”

                Elena and Bonnie both forced a laugh. “Hey, have you seen Caroline?” Bonnie began, her eyes sliding from Stefan to the crowd down the hall. “We kinda need to apologise to her.”

                “Apologise? What for?” asked Stefan, standing straight and offering Elena his arm as they wandered down the hall towards the ballroom.

                Elena sighed. “We were pretty bad friends and Bonnie reminded me I still haven’t apologised for forgetting her birthday a week and a half ago.”

                Stefan looked incredulous. “You forgot your friends’ birthday? How?”

                Elena blushed and Bonnie looked away. “I got caught up in you, actually,” muttered Elena.

                When she glanced up at him, his face was unreadable. When he caught her look, his face changed to understanding. “I think she and Damon wandered out to the gardens, last I saw.”

                “Let’s go find them,” said Elena with a false smile on her face. Stefan noticed, but didn’t comment.

                The three were quiet as they wandered out of the ballroom and onto the cement deck; fairy lights and tea lights were either strung from trees and bushes, or were floating in the large fountain feature the Lockwood’s had on their property near the base of the deck stairs. Tables for couples to sit at were covered with either gold or silver tablecloths, and a cozy, intimate gazebo hid any occupants from view with the same gauzy white curtains in the ballroom.

                “Overkill,” Bonnie muttered under her breath, but both Elena and Stefan heard her. “Caroline never does anything by half. When she goes, she goes all out.”

                On any ordinary day, Elena would agree and then she and Bonnie would list all the other times Caroline went perfectionist on them; but tonight, Elena was too stressed.

                At her side, Stefan suddenly stiffened, and his head turned to the far field of the property near the parking spaces for the cars, where there was little light. His head was tilted as well, as if he was hearing something they couldn’t.

                “Let’s try this way,” he suggested, and Elena and Bonnie shared a look. Did vampires have super hearing too?

                When Stefan suddenly took off running, Elena and Bonnie were right behind him. In the dark, they spotted two figures on the ground, one writhing in pain and groaning, the other motionless.

                “ _Ohmigod_ , CAROLINE!” shouted Bonnie, dropping to the dewy grass next to the young woman, whose white dress was grass-stained.

                Stefan was beside his brother, who was cursing him soundly. “What did you _do_?” Damon moaned, gagging.

                Stefan looked triumphant. “You’d notice vervain in your drink – you did earlier with the scotch – so I slipped vervain into Caroline’s champagne instead.”

                He clearly didn’t want to say anything else with Elena and Bonnie by Caroline’s side, who, with wide, dazed eyes, was clutching a bleeding wound at her neck.

                “Bonnie? Elena?” she murmured, her face pale and pulse fluttering rapidly underneath the hand Bonnie pressed against, hoping to stem the bleeding.

                “It’s going to be okay, Care,” whispered Elena, going to the woman’s other side and help her stand. “We’ll get you somewhere safe, promise.”

                “Okay,” she murmured back, her head lolling against Elena’s shoulder. Bonnie was about to rise from her knees when a glint in the soft light caught her eyes – a crystal pendant lay on the grass near where Caroline fell. Frowning, Bonnie grabbed it and tucked it into her clutch, then rose and supported Caroline.

                When she looked forward, she asked, loudly, “Where did they go?”

                Elena looked up at the sound of Bonnie’s question, and her mouth dropped open. Both Stefan and Damon were gone, with the only indication they’d even been there, was the trampled grass at the three girls’ feet.

Elena was sure, however, that that wasn’t the last time any of the three had seen of Damon and Stefan Salvatore.

**

TBC..


	3. III

Which Way to Go

 

*

Three:

 

 **Buffy** : Oh, wow. I-- I never hit anybody before.

 **Merrick** : Really? Well, you did it perfectly.

 **Buffy** : I didn’t even break a nail.

– Buffy the Vampire Slayer, movie (1992)

*

_Mystic Falls_

_After the Founder’s Party, out in the woods_

 

                Two people, a man and woman, stood staring down at the remains of a body, which was only partially covered by leaves and debris, far from the civilisation of Mystic Falls. The sound of leaves crunching under someone’s boots made the two look up from their observation; both were tense.

                “Just me,” the figure said, stepping closer and sweeping their flashlight over the dead body. “Another one?”

                “Yes,” the man said, idly plucking at the sleeve of his jacket. The motion was subconscious, merely a means to demonstrate that the man was nervous – his tell.

                “Are you sure?” the figure asked, and at the sight of the dead body, his face paled and he grimaced at the smell of a decomposing corpse. His eyes quickly raked over the body from head to toe, only pausing at the torn jugular and the copious amount of blood that spilled over the person’s lower jaw, neck, and down their front and left shoulder. A bit of torn skin from the neck flapped open, indicating what the cause of death was.

                The man who arrived wished he hadn’t asked such a rhetorical question, how that he saw the body.

                “Five bodies all drained of blood,” the woman of the group sighed, placing her hands on her hips. One hand twitched towards her gun holster. “I’m certain.”

                The other man, with the blazer, grimly thinned his lips. “They’ve come back.”

                The three shared an uneasy look, before turning their eyes back to the corpse. They all knew things were going to get far worse before things would ever be better.

*

_Late October, two weeks after the Founder’s Party_

_Gilbert House_

               

                Elena stared at her phone, biting her lip and chewing on it periodically as she stared at the lit screen. _12 Missed Calls_ , it read, and when she opened it, Stefan Salvatore’s name appeared repeatedly.

                The young woman sighed and tossed the phone onto her bed from her spot at the window seat in her bedroom. She then ran her hands through her straight hair, gripping it tightly at the base and curling her knees closer to her body.

                Stefan was a vampire.

                Damon was a vampire.

                Damon was eating Caroline.

                Damon was possibly doing other things to Caroline, which she wouldn’t remember because vampires had this neat trick called _compelling_ , or _glamour_ , or _hypnosis_ or whatever the fuck those horror/supernatural writers were calling it nowadays. Maybe _oblivate_ was a good word for it too?

                After the Founder’s Party, Elena and Bonnie snuck Caroline out without anyone seeing her, or the oozing neck bite, which stained her beautiful white knit cardi and dress a dirty brown from the dried blood. They eased the confused, tearful blonde into the backseat of Bonnie’s car, with Elena sitting next to her and applying pressure on the wound.

                Bonnie drove like a bat out of hell, getting her to the Forbes’ house. Upon entering it, Bonnie made a quick sweep to ensure they were alone, as Elena took Caroline to the bathroom. With careful tenderness – half an apology for how she acted, and half out of the desire not to upset Caroline’s state – Elena helped Caroline undress before pushing her into the shower tub and drawing the curtain so she had privacy. Elena, however, did not leave and Bonnie joined her at the sink, both keeping an ear on Caroline and speaking about how beautiful the party was, how nice Caroline’s designs were.

                When Caroline stepped out of the shower, Elena’s eyes grew wide and Bonnie’s grew hard – before the young woman reached for a towel Elena held out, the girls saw her side and back, as well as her now clean neck. She was riddled with crescent, white healed marks, and puckered, scabbed over cuts from where she was bitten: neck, collarbone, the tops of the breasts, stomach, hip, thigh, the curve of her bum.

                “Caroline,” began Elena quietly, “Please think carefully. Have you ever invited Damon into your house?”

                Caroline’s eyes, which were focused on her reflection in the mirror, slid to Elena’s reflection before murmuring, “Yes.”

                Bonnie swore, loudly and explosively, reaching for her cell phone and leaving the bathroom. The two girls remaining behind heard, “Hello? Grams? Yeah, I need your help...”

                “When? When did he come over Caroline?” asked Elena urgently.

                Caroline turned her body to face Elena, frowning. “Around my birthday. You know, the one _you_ forgot? What are you suddenly caring now, Elena?”

                Elena closed her eyes and bit her lip; she opened them, and glanced down. “I’m sorry I wasn’t a good friend to you, Care. But right now, there is something far more important going on. Did your mother or father ever talk about the Founding Families?”

                Caroline looked perplexed, and more than a little annoyed. “Of course not, and I could care less, Elena. Excuse me, I’m really tired right now, and I’ve got a really itchy neck bite that I need to clean and take care of, and wonder why the hell my boyfriend _bit_ me.”

                The blonde swept past Elena and out of the bathroom, moving towards her bedroom.

                “That’s kinda where I’m going with this, Caroline,” implored Elena, following her. They could hear Bonnie on her phone at the front of the house, in the living room, but her words were muffled. “Why _would_ Damon bite you? It’s a bit strange, isn’t it? Kinky?”

                Caroline huffed, entered her room, and immediately made her way to her closet where she opened the white-trimmed door, and pulled her black bathrobe from the protruding hook on the back of the door. Elena politely looked away as Caroline dropped the towel and slipped into the terrycloth.

                “Are you trying to insult me, Elena?” asked Caroline, stooping to pick up the towel and slinging it into her hamper.

                Elena wanted to roll her eyes but withheld; Caroline was _not_ making this easy for her. “No, Caroline. C’mon, think about it! When you were dating Jerry Hampton, did he bite your neck hard enough to draw blood? What about Ethan Fell? Or even your European hookup, Nik? Did _he_ bite you?”

                Caroline shot Elena a dirty look, but humoured her and answered, “Of course they didn’t.”

                Elena, seeing an opportunity, moved forward, across the dark hardwood floor and close to the window and where her bookshelf kitty-cornered it. Scanning quickly, Elena found the book she was looking for, plucked it from the shelf, turned, and tossed it at a very surprised Caroline.

                The blonde fumbled as she automatically reached out for the book, leaning down before pulling upright again and staring at the cover. Her face twisted into a half-amused, half-terrified expression. “Is this a joke?”

                “No,” replied Elena quietly. “You know it’s true. It all adds up.”

                Bonnie chose that moment to enter the bedroom, eyeing the book in Caroline’s hands, and having overheard Elena. “Well, they don’t sparkle, that’s for sure,” she said sarcastically. “But they can day walk like Blade.”

                “This isn’t funny, Elena,” shrilled Caroline, panic rising in her. Her blackouts, the bite marks, the uncontrollable feeling of doing something that she didn’t want to and then feeling dirty afterwards – Caroline’s hands tightened on the black paperback with a single chess piece on the cover.

                “Caroline,” began Elena, stepping to her friend and taking the book from her. “I found out about this before college. When I learned I was adopted. Remember when I told you about that?”

                Caroline nodded, blinking blankly at Elena. “But – that was nearly four years ago. _And you didn’t tell me_? I’m from a Founding Family, too, Elena!”

                Bonnie quickly interjected. “We thought your mom might say something. And then you were gone, to Duke and we barely saw you after that.”

                “So what, it’s my fault?” snapped Caroline, feeling her old insecurities welling up. “I’m not good enough to be in the know? Silly Caroline, not good for anything but a distraction? Brainless blonde? A silly little Barbie?”

                “No! No, Care,” Elena hastily said, gripping Caroline’s shoulders tighter. “It just never came up. It didn’t need to – you didn’t have to know about this life.”

                “But Bonnie does?”

                At the caustic remark, Bonnie snapped, “Well, I _am_ a witch.”

                Caroline blinked at Bonnie. “Shut the front door.”

                “Seriously.”

                “No, Bon, seriously, _shut the front door_. We are _not_ in some Anne Rice novel,” said Caroline, just as evenly in return.

                Bonnie rolled her eyes and a candle Caroline left on the dresser, burst into flame. Caroline felt her knees begin to shake and eased herself from Elena’s grasp to sit slowly on her bed.

                “Holy shit,” she muttered. She looked up at Elena, who was wringing her hands nervously, and Bonnie who had her arms crossed and an eyebrow quirked. “It’s all true.”

                “Yes,” said Elena.

                “Damon’s a vampire.”

                Bonnie nodded.

                “Who else knows?” asked Caroline, slowly coming to grips.

                “The Founding Families,” replied Elena, moving to sit next to her friend. “I do, Bonnie; Jeremy knows as well. Alaric’s a vampire hunter, can you believe it? Jenna doesn’t know, though. Bonnie’s Grams is a witch so she knows. That’s all we know for sure.”

                Bonnie sat on Caroline’s other side. “Are you okay?” she smoothed some of Caroline’s wet hair behind her ear and off her shoulder.

                Caroline shook her head. “It’s a bit much to take in. Vampires and witches are real.”

                “And werewolves,” interjected Elena.

                Caroline huffed and rolled her eyes. “Anything else I should be aware of? Fairies? Demons? Is there a hotline number so I can contact Sam and Dean Winchester right now to help me with my creepy undead boyfriend?”

                Elena and Bonnie laughed. “Sorry, Care, there isn’t,” Bonnie said a wry smile on her lips.

                Caroline sighed loudly, and then steeled herself, squaring her shoulders and pursing her lips. Elena and Bonnie shared a look behind Caroline’s back – _that_ was the Caroline they knew and loved, the planner, the girl who went for something and gave it her all, and succeeded.

                “Right,” Caroline nodded. “So, what do we do now?”

                Elena had, then, listed things Caroline needed to be aware of: the first being that Damon had access to her house from her invitation; second, Caroline needed to obtain vervain and begin drinking it daily to avoid compulsion; thirdly, to never be alone with Damon if she could help it; and fourth, to not say anything to anyone or act like she knew what the Salvatores were.

The worst part was that, despite ingesting vervain, Damon had somehow connected with Caroline while she was supervising the annual Sexy Soap Suds Car Wash and brought her to the Salvatore Boarding House to let him out of the basement jail Stefan had thrown him in the night of the Founding party.

                Caroline hadn’t blacked out afterwards forgetting the event, but she felt shaky and sick, especially knowing that Damon was released due to her, and their great-great-great-however many times-half-nephew Zach was killed trying to stop and save her. Instead, Caroline immediately jetted to Bonnie’s and spent the night.

In the two weeks since then, Elena had also spoken with Alaric and explained the situation. As soon as he found out, Elena had to stop him from racing out of his apartment over the bookstore in town and running straight to the Salvatore Boarding House. Things became worse the first time Alaric met Damon at the Grill, a few days later, and Alaric realised that Damon was the same vampire who killed his wife, and Elena’s birth mother.

                Dissuading him from staking Damon immediately, damn the town, took some fast thinking and quick action.

                Blurting out, “Help us protect ourselves!” was probably, in retrospect, a stupid suggestion, but it did get Ric’s mind off of permanently killing Damon, as well as giving Alaric a purpose, like helping his (technically stepdaughter) girlfriend’s niece.

When Elena had initially broached the idea of Alaric training them (“He’s totally like, a Winchester, you should see his gear, it’s totally awesome. He’s even got a few stashes at school!”), Caroline was, at first, skeptical. So was Bonnie. In fact, both thought it was a terrible idea, given they were twenty-two year old, barely one hundred and twenty pound women (“I’m sorry, do I _look_ like Buffy to you?” Caroline had snarked.).

Then Elena mentioned they were cheerleaders; their workouts were strenuous and despite not being on a cheer team since high school, all three maintained some sort of college athletic commitment: Caroline with her equestrian team, Bonnie with her hiking, and Elena with her marathon races. They were fit, they could get back into the cheer moves and lifts, and mix those with Alaric’s training.

Bonnie and Caroline, with much persuasion, eventually agreed.

                This led to Elena, two weeks later, ignoring Stefan’s latest phone call (Were they even still dating?Elena wondered. _Jenna seemed to think so_.) and wondering how she was going to convince Caroline not to go home after work, but to meet at Bonnie’s. Alaric was going to meet them, then explain his rules, and how he was going to train them, starting the first week of November.

                They wouldn’t have much time; Alaric was chaperoning the Mystic Falls High School Halloween party and dance that evening, and Elena had thoughtfully volunteered Bonnie and Caroline as well, in order to keep everyone together.

                Bonnie had herbal tea, with vervain mixed in, ready for Elena when she and Alaric arrived. Caroline had previously arrived, and was covering up the healed bite marks Damon left on her with a pretty, black jacket with floral design. Since her moment of vampire enlightenment, Caroline was careful to bare her body and spent the weeks since covered up; she was attempting to come to terms with Damon’s abuse.

                “Where did you find the vervain?” asked Alaric, taking a sniff and then a gulp of his tea as they sat in Bonnie’s kitchen. “There’s not a single plant to be found in a hundred miles of Mystic Falls.”

                Bonnie shot him an incredulous look. “Ric, it’s a plant. I called up the nearest Home Depot and asked where I could find one, because it was my grandmother’s favourite plant and I wanted to get her some for her garden for her birthday. The sales rep was incredibly helpful; ‘so sorry we don’t have any,’ they said, ‘but I checked our system and Greensboro’s fully stocked.’ So I drove into North Carolina and bought four dozen. They’re in my basement. I just hope Caroline’s mom doesn’t come by anytime soon or else she’ll think I’m growing a marijuana crop.”

                Caroline hid a smile behind her mug. “I don’t think that will be a problem, Bon. She’s constantly at work and never at home, so these ‘animal attacks,” Caroline made quote marks, “are probably taking up all her time.”

                “Right,” began Alaric, glancing at Elena before deliberately looking at Bonnie and then Caroline, where his gaze lingered. “Elena’s told me what happened at the Founder’s party. And that you want to train yourselves to kill vampires?”

                Elena nodded, Caroline shifted in her seat, and Bonnie shrugged.

                “More like just fight them off so we’ve got a chance to live,” amended Elena slowly.

                Alaric shook his head. “It doesn’t work like that Elena. They go in for a feed and kill. The likelihood of meeting a vampire who will compel you to forget and heal you is miniscule. They’re bloodsuckers and monsters with no thought to human life. If you’re going to learn to fight one off, you have to be prepared to kill them.”

                The girls shared hesitant looks.

                “Seriously?” groaned Alaric. “Buffy did it and made it look cool.”

                “We’re not in a Joss Whedon show, Ric,” argued Caroline. “Buffy makes saving the world look cool. We’re not like that.”

                “It’s not as difficult as you think,” laughed Ric. “C’mon.”

                He stood and gestured for the three friends to do so. He made his way to Bonnie’s front hall, which was the most spacious area of the house.

                “It’s self-defense, really,” began Ric, lining the girls up side-by-side. “And vampires are still human with human quirks and traits that they’ll never get rid of. The likelihood is that you’ll be attacked by a man – because you’re young and pretty and that’s a delectable treat for a vampire.

                “He’ll want to see your face, and smell your terror, so he’ll come at you from the front.” Alaric quickly rushed at Elena, who squeaked and threw her hands up to ward him off. He stopped just short of her, barely an inch between them.

                “He’ll want you quiet,” continued Alaric, reaching out and gripping the back of Elena’s neck to hold her in place while the other covered her mouth gently. “Once your eyes are on him, he’ll compel you.”

                “But that won’t work,” stammered Bonnie, staring at Alaric’s towering form over Elena’s lithe one. If he were a vampire, he’d have already killed Elena. It was a terrifying thought.

                “No, but they don’t know that,” agreed Alaric. “So Elena, you’ve got one chance to surprise me and do some damage. What would you do?”

                He uncovered her mouth but remained in the same position, gripping her neck and tilting his head down to look at her.

                “Umm,” began Elena, intelligently.

                Alaric gave Elena his best “you can do it” teacher look. She flushed in embarrassment.

                “He’s a guy, right?” Caroline piped up.

                “Yeah...” drawled Bonnie.

                “And vampires are the same as humans, right?” continued Caroline, a large, toothy grin stretching across her face.

                “Yeah,” agreed Alaric, turning his head to look at Caroline, who was now as lit up as a billboard sign.

                “Great, I know the first thing I’m going to do when I see Damon!” she chirped.

                Elena frowned, wondering what it was so that she could use it. “What’s that?”

                “I’m gonna kick him in the crotch!”

                Alaric winced and turned quickly back at Elena. “Don’t do that to me. Seriously. Please. We’ll pretend.”

                Elena laughed and overly motion raising her knee. Alaric made a fake grimace of pain and bent at the waist, sucking in a deep breath of air.

                “So what would I do now?” asked Elena.

                Bonnie tapped a finger against her chin as she thought, the other arm across her chest. “I guess if you had a stake, you’d be able to hit him with it.”

                “If he hadn’t knocked it away to begin with,” argued Caroline, also thinking and mentally cataloguing and listing what she knew about vampires, men, and kick ass women on TV (which wasn’t much). She was in planner mode.

                “Well, if it’s hidden, I can bring it out and use it,” said Elena. “Don’t you have a hidden wrist holster one, Ric?”

                Alaric nodded. “I’ve got a spare so you can have it, Elena. It’s a spring-action trigger release. Similar to a crossbow in the lever, but to activate it, you need to pretty much pretend you’re Spiderman shooting out some Spidey-webs. The trigger release as at the bottom of your palm, and with your wrist angled down or up by ninety degrees, the stake will fly right out to wherever you’re aiming.

                “That’s one idea. What’s another if you don’t have a stake?”

                “Always have a vervain dart on hand,” suggested Elena.

                Alaric nodded. “They’re small and compactable.”

                Caroline frowned, tossing her blonde hair over her shoulder. “You can’t out-run them. Or out-fight them. They’re too strong and too fast.”

                “I can knock them down.”

                Elena, Caroline, and Alaric turned to Bonnie in surprise. Alaric stepped back from Elena, a pensive look on his face as he asked, “How?”

                Bonnie flushed at first, ducking her head, but then a wicked grin crept onto her face. “Gram’s spell book – it’s got a spell in there that pops brain vessels in vampires and werewolves. Depending on how strong I concentrate, depends on how long they are knocked to the floor. Then someone else can stake or vervain them.”

                “If someone doesn’t want to get messy, it’s the best plan you three have,” admitted Alaric with a small smile. “So, you’d best stick together. We’ll practice Saturdays at my apartment staring this weekend. I’ve got a punching bag and home gym set up, and I’ll show you how to attack with stakes as well. The practice and moves are pretty much the same as knife fighting, and they’re good skills to have.”

                He glanced down at his wrist and sighed. “Well, off to chaperone. Need a lift, girls?”

                The three enthusiastically responded, climbing into Alaric’s SUV and reminiscing over their sophomore Halloween costumes and joking about their fashion choices(Bonnie was ironically a witch before she knew what she was).

                Once they pulled up to the school parking, which had several other cars in it from other chaperones; Alaric led them to his classroom, offering them to put their purses in his locked desk drawer. They agreed, quickly handing them over.

                Alaric unlocked the drawer, and pulled out a small duffle bag. He placed the purses inside, shut it, and locked the drawer.

                “What’s in the bag?” asked Elena, peering at it.

                Alaric grinned and unzipped it. The three young women leaned forward over the desk to look inside: several expertly carved wooden stakes, a crossbow, and some glass bottles of goldish liquid made up its contents.

                “In case we run into any problems tonight,” answered Alaric, reaching it and pulling out a homemade crossbow wrist holster. He held it out to Elena, who pulled her right arm out of her jacket sleeve, and watched as he strapped it on. Once she flexed her wrist a bit to get a feel for the weapon, she pulled her arm back into her sleeve.

                “Are you two going to be okay with the rest of this?” he asked.

                Caroline was greedily looking at the vervain bottles. “Oh, I think I can manage.”

                Slightly alarmed at the vindictive look in Caroline’s eyes, Alaric slowly nodded. “Keep this with you. I’m in the gym, but they have the three of you patrolling outside. Remember, underage drinking is bad, even if you did it yourself. You’re adults and can now be hypocritical. I’ll see you here at nine thirty.”

                “Okay Ric,” agreed Elena. “Thanks again.”

                “Yes, thank you, Ric,” echoed Bonnie and Caroline.

                Alaric waved his goodbyes and the three girls remained in his classroom, debating where to begin their patrol.

                “Hallways,” said Caroline. “There’s always someone trying to smoke up in the boy’s toilets outside the science lab.”’

                The three began walking down the hallway, side-by-side. Bonnie’s eyes were darting back and forth every time they crossed a 4-way intersection of hallways; Elena was gripping the duffle bag tightly in her hands and Caroline was growing bored. Instead of jumping at every sound they heard, the girls slowly began to relax as the minutes ticked by.

                Soon, an hour had passed and they had explored the majority of the school interior, with only two hallways left: the science corridor and the hall leading to the cafeteria.

                By this time, Elena had relinquished her death grip on the bag and Caroline was moodily shuffling her feet behind Bonnie, often becoming distracted by photographs in display cases of their school years when they attended, and calling out “remember when’s.”

                Finally, they took a break near a water fountain and their old lockers.

                “What was that?” asked Bonnie, turning her head to the side and looking down a darkened hallway that was off-limits to the students. It led to the gymnasium.

                “What was what?” replied Caroline, leaning against a nearby locker and examining her chipped nail polish on her right hand. “God, this is so boring. They totally left out the long wait between hunting vampires down in _Buffy_ and _Supernatural_. It’s always action-action-action with those types of shows and yet we’re just puttering along—”

                A blur flashed out of the darkened corridor, slamming into Caroline.

                Elena and Bonnie screamed in fright.

                Vicki Donovan, her clothes dirty and torn, her lower chin covered in blood and her eyes red, had Caroline in a tight grip. Black veins began to expand from her eyes, which darkened into black, and fangs elongated out of her canines. Without warning and within seconds of running out of the hallway, she had her face buried in Caroline’s neck.

Caroline screamed. She was _so_ glad she forgot what Damon’s vampire face looked like, but seeing Vicki’s was traumatising enough for her.

                “OHMIGOD!” cried Elena, racing forward and slamming into Vicki in a football she’d seen Matt perform on the field numerous times.

                Vicki barely moved, but it was enough to catch her attention and remove her mouth from Caroline. Dripping blood from her open, scowling mouth, Vicki smirked and shoved Elena away from her, sending the brunette flying and slamming into the lockers across the hall.

                Laughter from behind the girls caught Vicki’s attention.

                “Catch me if you can,” she remarked darkly with a smirk, and then flashed away.

                Caroline clutched her neck tightly with her left hand. She pulled it away to stare down at it in disbelief. Then, leaning against the locker, she pointed in the direction that Vicki took off in down the hall, furiously shouting, “The druggie bitch just bit me! She _bit_ me! Where’s the stake? Elena, where’s the fucking stake? Give it to me – I’m gonna kill her! This was a two hundred dollar Top Shop jacket import! I’ll rip her to shreds with my bare hands!”

                _Of_ course _, only Caroline would be upset about a ruined jacket and threaten a newly turned vampire because of it_ , thought Elena darkly, _instead of worrying about the fact that she was dripping blood on the hallway floor_.

                Caroline didn’t wait, pulling her bloody hand back from her neck and reaching for the duffle bag Elena clutched in her hands. She immediately began rummaging through it, reaching in and grabbing a sharp, wooden stake.

                “Care, she’s faster than us,” argued Elena. “We can’t just run after her without a plan.”

                “Who the fuck cares? She _ruined_ by Kate Moss jacket!” argued Caroline back, hissily and stomping her foot. “Elena, I realise you _haven’t_ been bitten, but take it from someone who has been: blood stains are a _bitch_ to remove once it’s soaked into the fabric. And there’s no way blood’s going to come out of this. I want _revenge_. Two hundred dollars worth.”

                Bonnie sighed. “Chill, Shylock. I think I’ve got the aneurism spell down, so if we can corner her, we can vervain her.”

                “Vervain? No way. She’s dead.”

                Elena scoffed. “You wanna tell Matt that you killed his little sister, go right ahead, Caroline.”

                Thinking of the friendly quarterback, Caroline quickly changed her mind. “Fine. I won’t kill her. But I’m totally staking her somewhere else. And if I use up all the stakes in the bag, I’m getting a pencil. I’m sure there’s loads around here – it’s a school, isn’t it?”

                “Fine,” agreed Elena, and they took off in the direction Vicki went. Running and typing a text to Alaric, of course, wasn’t easy – but Elena was sure she would master it soon, if they were going to chase after a teenager with super strength and super speed.

                The school, however, was empty; there was no noise coming from any of the classrooms, or the supply closets. There was a dull murmur from the crowd of students in the gym and spilling outdoors to the makeshift haunted plywood rooms the school committee made, but Vicki was not inside.

                “Now what?” asked Bonnie, breathing heavily from their mad dash all over the school. The three stood at the emergency exit which led to the “stoner’s lot” just behind the gym and beside the school bus parking lot.

                “If I were a newly turned vampire,” began Caroline with a roll of her eyes, “And I was overcome with bloodlust, where would I go?”

                The three met each other’s eyes, answering together, “Outside.”

                They scrambled over each other to push through the emergency door, bursting out onto the cement platform and hitting the steel railing, one on top of the other. Muffled curses escaped the girls’ lips, some more colourful than others (Caroline’s).

                “Vicki! What the hell!”

                Elena’s head popped up at the shout, pushing away from the rail with one hand and the other on Caroline’s back.

                “Jeremy!” gasped Elena, tripping down the stairs in haste.

                Caroline and Bonnie were steps behind her, dashing towards Jeremy’s voice and the three, parked yellow school buses. Elena skidded to a halt between two of them, staring at Vicki, with her vampire face leering at Jeremy, who was pushed against a bus. Her hand was around his throat, not squeezing tightly, but enough to warn him not to upset her. She was leaning close to his neck, in a parody of a lover’s caress.

                Caroline stepped up next to Elena, clutching the stake in her right hand, while Bonnie stood just to the side.

                “Vicki, let him go,” demanded Elena, her brows tightly furrowed and her voice firm.

                “Make me!” snapped Matt’s sister petulantly. For an eighteen year old, Vicki acted ridiculously spoiled. She turned to face Elena, hissing in warning and snarled, “You strung my brother along! You broke his heart! I should take yours!”

                With that, Vicki let Jeremy go, who fell to the asphalt, coughing and massaging his neck. The baby vampire darted in front of Elena, hands outstretched, and the black veins protruding from around her eyes further as she smelled Caroline’s still oozing blood.

                Before Vicki could wrap her nails around Elena’s throat, or bite her, Bonnie stretched out her hand, a deep look of concentration on her face. Vicki fell to the ground, screaming and clutching her head, crying, “Make it stop, it hurts! _Make it stop!_ ”

                Bonnie took evenly measured steps forward, keeping her hand extended. However, soon blood was dripping from her nose and her concentration was flagging.

                Caroline and Elena, both with stakes and their wrist-holster, hesitated at the mournful cries Vicki emitted, sounding very human.

                Their hesitation was a mistake.

                Bonnie felt her strength disappear, and brought a hand to her nose to block the bleeding. She felt dizzy and feverish; she couldn’t keep up the spell. Immediately, Vicki stood up and flashed towards Elena, intent on killing her.

                A mere hand’s width from her, Vicki stopped, her face twisting up in pain. Her skin turned from rosy to grey, the black veins around her eyes disappearing and her eyes turned back to brown. Her skin began to flake.

                Elena looked down at Vicki’s chest and her mouth dropped open in horror at the sight of a piece of wood sticking out of Vicki’s chest, directly through her heart. The Donovan girl jerked backwards and collapsed soundlessly to the floor.

                Elena raised her eyes from her ex-boyfriends’ sister’s corpse to meet Stefan’s. He stood a few feet behind Vicki’s body, his chest heaving up and down in exertion. His eyes were dark and black veins extended from them on his face as well.

                Unable to think of anything to say, Elena stared at the other vampire, wondering why he saved them. In those moments, Damon appeared, stopping next to his brother and looking at Vicki’s body with distaste.

                “You had to stake her, didn’t you?” he asked sardonically.

                Stefan’s face began to revert to normal, and he replied smartly, “You turned her. I’m just cleaning up your mess.”

                Damon scoffed, and turned his eyes to Elena, who stood shell-shocked next to Caroline, who was still looking at Vicki, almost in regret – although Elena was sure it was regret for not getting a chance to stake the young woman.

                “Well, well, well,” began Damon with a lilt to his voice. “What do we have here? The witch,” his eyes fell on Bonnie, “The Barbie,” they turned to Caroline, who sneered, “And the lovely Miss Gilbert. What _were_ you doing out here?”

                “I’d like to know the same!” snapped another voice, and everyone turned to see Jeremy rising to his feet. “I didn’t mind Vicki trying to feed off me, I was just worried she wouldn’t _stop_.”

                “She was a vampire, Jer!” argued back Elena, completely forgetting about their audience, who began to swivel their heads back and forth between the arguing siblings.

                “Yeah, thanks for the Elena, I totally didn’t get the memo!”

                “She would have _killed_ you!”

                “You think I didn’t know that? I’ve known about vampires over a year now, and while you sat and twiddled your thumbs pretending they didn’t exist for _four_ _years_ , I actually did something about it!” argued Jeremy. “I researched Mystic Fall’s history! I researched ways to kill and subdue vampires! What have you been doing? Who the hell do you think you are, jumping in like you’re freakin’ Buffy?”

                “Ooh, this is getting good,” chuckled Damon, a grin stretched across his face.

                “Shut up!” Elena and Jeremy snapped together at the man, not taking their eyes off one another.

                Damon pretended to shiver. “Make me.”

                Caroline didn’t wait for an invitation. She dashed forward with a well-aimed knee, hit Damon in the crotch, and brought him to his knees. “ _That’s_ for biting me while we were dating and treating me as a blood bag!” She brought her booted foot up while he was on his knees and slammed it into his nose, shoving him back. “And _that’s_ for compelling me to sleep with you, creep!”

                Stefan burst into laughter.

                Damon, rolling onto his side on the ground, groaned. “Shud up, Sdefan,” he slurred with a heavily nasal tone, unable to speak properly through his bloody nose.

                “Oh, grow up,” called Caroline, striding to Bonnie’s side with a flick of her hair over her bloody shoulder. “You’re a vampire; it’ll heal in like, two seconds.”

                Damon slowly rose to his feet, pinching his nose between two fingers and crunching it back into place. He glowered at Caroline. “You’ll get those two freebies, Barbie, but don’t think I won’t kill you if you try it again.”

                Caroline huffed, tossing her head regally, and quirked a single eyebrow in response. “I bet if I could remember, you weren’t even a good lay.”

                Damon hissed in warning, his eyes darkening. “I’ve got purpose, Barbie, which is more than what you’ve got. You’re just shallow and useless to everyone – couldn’t even stake a vampire tonight.”

                “Hey!” shouted Elena, turning from her brother. “Leave her alone! You stay away from her and my friends.”

                Damon sneered at Elena. “Why would I do that, when Barbie has something I want?”

                “What?” asked Caroline, surprised. “I don’t have anything.”

                “Where’s the crystal? The one I took from the Lockwood house the night of the Founder’s party. You have it. Give it to me!”

                Caroline shook her head. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I don’t have a crystal.”

                “Why do you need it anyway?” asked Elena, stepping closer to Caroline. “It’s not like it’s yours to begin with.”

                Stefan, watching from the sidelines quietly, narrowed his eyes at Damon. “Yes, Damon. Please tell us why you need this crystal.”

                Damon rolled his eyes. “To open the tomb. Release the vampires. Incite and create chaos. Doom Mystic Falls to be overrun with desiccated, hungry vampires. Save Katherine. Be with Katherine. Make your life miserable. Typical Wednesday stuff.”

                “Tomb?” gapped Bonnie.

                “Hungry vampires?” shrieked Caroline.

                “Doom Mystic Falls?” cried Elena.

                “In a nutshell,” replied Damon smugly. “And all I need is the crystal. So, Barbie. Last time: _hand it over_.”

                Caroline rolled her eyes and crossed her arms, shifting the majority of her weight to rest on one leg. “And I _told you_ , I don’t have it.”

                “Then who does?” he asked, narrowing his eyes.

                “Me,” replied Bonnie, her eyes gaze dark as she reached around her neck and withdrew the crystal, attached to a silver necklace. She held the crystal by two fingers in front of her, extending the chain from her neck forward. “This was my ancestors, did you know that?”

                Damon eyed Bonnie and the crystal warily. “I knew the witch who made it. Emily Bennett, yes. I promised to protect her bloodline in return for her help releasing Katherine from the tomb.” His eyes narrowed. “And since _she_ didn’t help me, I guess I’ve got you, Sabrina.”

                “In return for _what_?” bargained Bonnie.

                “Bonnie, no!” cried Elena. Bonnie cut her a sharp glance, and then returned her eyes to Damon.

                “Damon...” warned Stefan, moving a step forward.

                “Oh, relax, brother,” chuckled Damon. “In return for the witch’s help, I’ll leave her and everyone else alone, and I’ll even leave once the tomb is open and I’m with Katherine. That’s what you want, right?”

                “No more draining people, no attacking my friends, and you’ll leave with Katherine as soon as the tomb is open and never come back?” confirmed Bonnie, suspiciously.

                “Scouts honour,” replied Damon, placing a mocking hand over his heart. He ignored Stefan’s mutter of “you’ve never been a boy scout in your life.”

                “Deal,” agreed Bonnie. “When does this happen, then?”

                “Next full moon? It was originally during a comet, but I think you’re witchy enough, Bonnie Bennett,” suggested Damon with a smug grin on his face. “You’ll probably need to power up – I know a perfect place where you can channel the power of a hundred witches – and then on the next full moon we’ll open the tomb.”

                “Fine,” agreed Bonnie with narrowed eyes. “The deal starts now. No drinking, no draining, no attacking friends and family. Got it?”

                “Unless they attack me first,” replied Damon easily. His eyes lingered on the three young women for a moment before he flashed away into the night.

                “You shouldn’t have done that,” said Stefan lowly. “There’s a reason those vampires are entombed.”

                Bonnie shrugged. “I didn’t say anything about letting them out, did I?”

                “Don’t play, Bonnie,” cautioned Stefan, stepping forward. “Damon’s manipulative and he knows how to get what he wants, when he wants it. You won’t stand a chance against him.”

                Bonnie shrugged, again. “I’ll deal with it when I deal with it.” She turned to Caroline, and asked, “Want to head back in?”

                Caroline nodded, turning and walking to Bonnie. Elena remained where she was.

                “You guys go, I need to speak with Stefan,” she said, offering a smile when the two hesitated. “It’ll be okay. Promise.”

                “Great, then can someone tell me what the hell is going on?!” Jeremy shouted.

                Elena rolled her eyes. “Go _home_ , Jer. I’ll see you in twenty minutes. Or, go inside to Ric’s classroom and wait with Bonnie and Care. We’ll go home together.”

                “Fine,” grumbled Jeremy, following the two other girls who were nearly at the emergency door. “But you _so_ owe me, Elena.”

                 Stefan and Elena looked at each other in silence, standing awkwardly with Vicki’s body between them.

                “I’ll... um, I’ll take care of Vicki,” Stefan began hesitantly.

                Elena nodded stiffly. “Thanks. We’d all appreciate that.”

                They fell into silence again. Then—“So I guess this is why you haven’t been returning my calls.”

                Elena gave a small laugh, one that burst from her mouth without any thought. “Um, yeah. Kind of.”

                “How long have you known?”

                “About vampires or about you and Damon?”

                Stefan clarified, “Both.”

                “I’m from a Founding Family, so I’ve known about vampires since I was eighteen. Just over four years now; but as for you and Damon?” Elena gave a tiny, tight smile. “The night of the Founding party, when I saw the Heritage Document and read your name, and Damon’s on it. And Damon had already mentioned Katherine to me.”

                “Ah,” said Stefan, shuffling awkwardly. Then, he ventured, a hesitant tone to his voice, “Are you then – do you – I mean to say...”

                “What?” asked Elena, curiously.

                “Do you hate vampires then?” he finally asked. “Do you hate me?”

                Elena considered it. Did she really?

                “I don’t hate you,” she began slowly. “I really hate Damon, though. I mean, he used my best friend. That’s not cool.” She peered at Stefan. “Do you eat humans?”

                “No. Not anymore.”

                “Anymore?”

                Stefan flushed slightly in the face. “I ah... I have control issues when I feed off human blood. It’s... intoxicating to me. So I don’t. Drink from humans, that is. All bunny diet for me.”

                Elena tried not to stare. “So... you’re a vegetarian vampire?”

                Stefan looked pleased at the description. “Yeah. I guess I am.”

                “Huh,” answered Elena smartly, a little bewildered. “Do you plan on hurting me or my friends?”

                “No,” answered Stefan back, firmly.

                “Then why are you here?” Elena wondered.

                Stefan looked uncomfortable, shifting his weight uneasily, shoving his hands into his jean pockets. “Um... I guess I just wanted to get to know you better. That’s it, really.”

                “Me?” Elena was shocked. “Why me?”

                “The night your parents died,” began Stefan slowly, and carefully choosing his words, “You were in the car with them.”

                “Yeah. How’d you know?”

                “I was there,” replied Stefan, catching Elena’s eyes. “When the car went off the bridge, I was there that night. I jumped in the water after it. Your father, he was trying to get to you.”

                “I remember,” breathed Elena, her eyes distant as she remembered waking up, submerged in water and choking on what she had accidently inhaled. Her father, stretching his hand to her over the back of his seat –

                “And I wanted to get him out first,” continued Stefan, “But he wouldn’t let me. He kept pointing at you. He wanted you saved. So I got you out, pulled you to the shore. I went back for him, but...”

                “It was too late by then,” finished Elena softly. Stefan had saved her life. He had tried to save her father’s as well. “But why did you keep quiet then? Or not tell me after the funeral?”

                “I didn’t want to intrude,” responded Stefan, just as quietly. “You were grieving. I didn’t want to bring up bad memories.”

                “And now? You’re sticking around just to see how I am handling myself?” questioned Elena, a frown on her face and in her voice. She wrapped her arms around her jacket and shivered.

                “No!” Stefan took a quick step forward. “No, not at all, Elena. At first, I kept quiet because – well, I’m a vampire. You shouldn’t have to put up with that. But then I wanted to make sure you were okay... and I got to know you. And I like you.”

                Elena sighed.

                “Does this change things?” asked Stefan lowly, his eyes searching her face.

                “Yes. No. I mean,” Elena sighed again. “I’m not sure.”

                Stefan nodded slowly, his face visibly falling at her words. “I really do like _you_ , Elena.” There was a strange emphasis on ‘you.’

                Elena, hearing the truth in his voice, gave a smile. “I know. Look, give me some time to sort this out, okay? Vicki tried to eat my brother and kill Caroline and myself tonight. I need to wrap my head around that. And I need to help Caroline with your brother’s abuse on her.”

                “Abuse?” Stefan queried, alarmed. “What did he do?”

                Elena’s face hardened. “Go ask him that.”

                Stefan nodded. “I will. Believe me, I will.”

                Elena took his answer as truth and began to take a few steps backwards, intent on meeting her friends, brother, and Alaric in his classroom and head home for the night. She was exhausted. “Goodnight, Stefan. Thanks for, um...” she nodded at Vicki’s body.

                “Anytime, Elena,” replied Stefan, a glint in his eyes. “Good night.”

                Elena turned and walked away, her steps even and measured. She could hear Stefan behind her, arranging Vicki’s body and grunting as he hefted it in a fireman’s lift, ready to speed away and handle the burying or disposing of her body.

                “Stefan!” Elena called, turning around, making a span decision.

                Stefan looked up at her voice, an open look on his face.

                “Did you want to help me chaperone the fifties dance next month?” the words flew out of her month.

                Stefan’s face opened with unbridled happiness, and he grinned. “Yeah. I’d like that.”

                “Great,” replied Elena, a more genuine smile on her face. “We’ll talk later. Take care.”

                He then flashed away, and Elena turned once more to enter the school. It was like she first thought – there were bad and good people in the world, just like there were good and bad vampires. The only way to figure out who was which, was to spend time with them. And if it made her happy too, then who was she to complain?

*

                 Damon waited until he saw Elena moving around the living room, planning to go upstairs to bed, before making his presence known. He raised his hand and rapped on the front door gently; he didn’t want to be too loud that he alerted Jeremy or Jenna of his being there – he knew Jenna didn’t like him.

                “Damon,” Elena said, opening the front door in surprise. “What are you doing here?”

                Damon shifted on his feet. “Uh... is Jeremy okay?”

                Elena’s eyebrows shot up.

                “I mean, his girlfriend did get staked in front of him,” elaborated Damon, with a tiny shrug. He wasn’t altogether sure why he was on her porch, either.

                Elena slowly nodded. “He’s fine. He’s known about vampires for some time now. He knows it had to be done.”

                Damon stepped forward towards Elena, an intense look on his face.

                “Damon...?” she asked warily, leaning back as he got closer. She knew he hadn’t been invited in.

                Damon’s hand reached up and cupped the back of her neck, his blue eyes focused on her face, darting from her brown eyes to her lips, which were parted, and back up.

                “I have a reason for everything I do,” he murmured, leaning down until he was barely a hair’s width from her lips. “But... but I don’t have a reason for this.”

                Then he leaned in and gently brushed his lips against hers. At first, she didn’t respond; then, she began kissing him back, hard. Taking the encouragement, Damon deepened the kiss, slanting his mouth against hers and drawing the very breath from her body.

                Soon, he pulled back and Elena opened her eyes.

                Damon was visibly composing himself. He looked shaken, as if he couldn’t believe on one hand what he had just done, and on the other, thoroughly smug. His eyes darted down to Elena’s reddened and plump lips, a self-satisfied smile on his face.

                “See you around, Elena,” he said, turned on his booted heel, and walked down her porch, looking left and right before using his vampire speed to dash away.

                “Elena?” asked a voice from behind the girl, in the house.

                Elena turned to see Jenna standing with a mug of tea in her hand, wearing pajamas and a confused expression on her face.

                “Yeah, Jenna?” asked Elena, the front door still open.

                Jenna’s brows furrowed. “I thought you were staying with Bonnie and Caroline tonight at Bonnie’s house.”

                “I am,” replied Elena with a smile. “I just came back to pick something up that I forgot. I was just on my way out.”

                “Oh. Okay then,” said Jenna with a returning smile. “Have fun! Don’t stay up too late, okay? I’ll see you tomorrow when you get back.”

                “Okay. Night, Jenna!” said Elena, stepping out the door and closing it behind her.

                It wasn’t until Jenna was upstairs, slipping into her bed next to a snoring Alaric that she thought, _But Ric drove Elena to Bonnie’s after the dance and returned here with Jeremy. How did Elena get here?_

                She shook the thought off and made a mental note to ask her niece in the morning. Everything would make sense then.

*

                In a large, bright office overlooking a dreary London cityscape, a young man stood facing the windows with his hands clasped behind his back. At first glance, he was unremarkable if not very good looking – but his quiet demeanor hid a much deeper, darker secret.

                For the last few months, he had been unable to concentrate on much other than a bright, toothy smile, infectious laughter, mesmerizing green eyes, and shimmering wheat-coloured hair. Flashes of the night he and the young woman spent together kept him awake; at times he _ached_ to have the woman in his arms again.

                It was maddening.

                He was going insane.

                (Or falling in love, either one was an option; although he certainly didn’t listen to _that_ voice in his often. It sounded like his elder brother, and that meant it was uptight and moral and disgustingly good at making him feel guilty, which he detested.)

                “There’s been a sighting,” a woman said, walking into the bright room and stopping several metres behind the young man. She was tall, with a dark complexion and vibrantly coiled black hair. Her tone was rather blasé, aiming to ensure her voice didn’t waver. The topic she broached was hardly a safe one around the volatile man.

                “Where?” he asked, a rising inflection at the end of the word. It made his voice seem merely curious, rather than homicidal.

                “After we lost her in Florida, we thought she might go to New York, or somewhere around the East coast,” the woman continued nervously. “She was spotted just outside Richmond, Virginia, heading west.”

                “That leaves a lot of options for you to search, sweetheart,” the man chided, still not turning. “Did you not narrow it down?”

                The woman swallowed loudly. “No...”

                She didn’t see the man move. One second he stood serenely by the window, gazing out at One Canada Place and the Thames, the next, he had flashed in front of her, his hand was wrapped around her throat and her feet were off the floor. The woman choked, gasping for air and frantically brought her hands up to the man’s hand to claw at his iron grip.

                “That’s not the answer I was waiting to hear, Greta,” the man idly said, his eye crinkling at the corner as he smirked.

                “She—She’s b-been—to a... a... town there... b-before,” gasped Greta.

                “And what town is this?” asked the man.

                Greta’s face was flushed and her eyes were bulging as her air supply diminished quickly and pain blossomed around her neck as the man’s grip crushed her throat.

                “M-Mystic F-falls.”

                Immediately the hand retracted and Greta fell to the floor, sucking in deep, greedy breaths. The man had stepped back from her, only two or three large steps, and he was staring at the witch, unseeingly.

                His hands clenched at his side, and images of his American one-night but not one-go stand flashed through his mind: pink, watermelon-flavoured lips, smooth thighs, eyelashes fluttering against his cheek. _Caroline Forbes; Mystic Falls, Virginia_.

                The man swallowed heavily and turned from Greta’s prone form, striding back to the windows. A fierce, quick stab of pain in his chest made him inhale sharply; what if his target, the woman who eluded him for five hundred years harmed Caroline? Snuffed out her light? Damaged her?

A shuttered, guarded look appeared in his eyes – had anyone been facing him to see the action – and he tightly shoved his thoughts and feelings for the only woman to make him feel like more than he usually considered himself, under lock and key.

                Nothing would touch Caroline. He wouldn’t allow it.

                “Cody?”

                A young looking man, pale and with dark hair, stepped from the wall, barely glancing at the woman gasping heavily for air.

                “Yes, Klaus?”

                “Ready the plane, and send a message to Jonas to meet us. We’re leaving for Mystic Falls immediately.”

*

 TBC...


	4. IV

Which Way to Go

*

Four:

 

 **Buffy** : Angel’s a vampire, I thought you knew.

 **Cordelia** : Oh, he’s a vampire! Of course! But the cuddly kind, like a Care Bear with fangs.

– _Buffy the Vampire Slayer_ , 2.06, “Halloween”

*

 

_Mystic Falls, November_

_Alaric’s Apartment_

 

                The Saturday after the Halloween high school party, and Vicki’s death, as well as learning about Damon and Stefan Salvatore, Elena, Bonnie, and Caroline converged on Alaric’s apartment at the ungodly hour of seven in the morning.

                When Alaric opened his apartment door, hair sticking in every direction, his face pale, and circles under his eyes, wearing just a pair of low-slung pajama pants, Caroline took pity on him. She held up a brown paper bag with rolled top in one hand, and a cardboard tray of coffees from the Grill in the other. “I come bearing breakfast as a gift!”

                Bonnie and Elena were already at Ric’s breakfast bar, watching from behind perfectly-coiffed hair and expertly applied makeup, as the man shuffled back into his apartment; leading Caroline further in with muffled curses under his breath.

                “This _was_ your idea, remember, Ric?” teased Elena, her legs crossed and a smile on her face. Caroline set down the bag and tray, and each girl grabbed one while Bonnie began rummaging in the bag, pulling out a buttered croissant.

                “Yeah, yeah,” the man muttered. “Give me five.” He looked at the clock and the bemused faces the girls, at his breakfast bar, wore, and then amended, “Maybe, make that fifteen. I’ll be back then and we’ll start.”

                As soon as he was out of earshot, Elena turned to Caroline. “How are you holding up?”

                Caroline shot her a haughty look. “I was Miss Mystic Falls, Elena. I think I can handle myself.” She paused. “But to answer your question, other than some really strange dreams lately – which I think are memories – I’m doing fine. I guess.”

                “Are you sure?” asked Bonnie quietly.

                Flashes of her screaming in pain as she was bitten, sobbing, “No, no, please, _no_ ,” over and over again; the iron, coppery smell of blood and the feel of the thick, dripping liquid covering her body – they rolled over her quickly and Caroline did her best to hide her shiver. Instead, she responded, “Yeah. Of course. I’m totally fine.”

                 Both Elena and Bonnie gave Caroline looks that implied they didn’t believe her, but did not continue with the conversation. Caroline was grateful, as she certainly didn’t want Alaric to hear – as a teacher, he had a deep-instilled need to ensure everyone was taken care of on some level – and soon, conversation turned to Elena and Stefan. Things such as, what they spoke about after Caroline, Bonnie, and Jeremy left them, and speculation on what would happen next, now that Stefan and Damon knew that the young women knew they were vampires.

                “I don’t think Stefan’s going to hurt us,” Elena tried saying, defending her new crush, while both Bonnie and Caroline eyed her. “Really!”

                “Well, even if he isn’t, there’s no telling what his brother may do,” said Alaric, freshly showered and changed into sweats and a form-fitting t-shirt. “From what you three said, Damon seems the loose cannon and the more dangerous one.” He looked the three over, frowning as he took in their designer brand exercise wear. “Is that what you’re wearing for this?”

                Caroline looked down at her clothing, wondering what was wrong with her shorts and sports bra; Bonnie and Elena, who had also been cheerleaders with Caroline in high school, wore similar outfits.

                Alaric sighed. “Never mind.” He gestured for them to following him further into his apartment, where a cleared floor area boasted a punching bag, several weights, and a exercise machine in the corner. The rest of the space was free. “We’re going to start on some traditional defense moves, which you can use for anyone attacking you...”

*

                Caroline’s goodbyes to Elena, Bonnie, and Alaric were quick and brief as everyone began to pack up their towels and water bottles, as well as weapons Alaric had them using, and went their separate ways. Caroline herself, after Alaric’s rather slow-building work out and lesson, was feeling grimy and her muscles were protesting every move she made. She was dreaming of a steamy, hot shower and a tub of Ben & Jerry’s while curling up on the couch for an evening at home.

                With that in mind, Caroline left Alaric’s apartment and drove directly to the nearest grocery store, picking up a basket and wandering up and down the aisles as she spotted snacks and ready-meals, adding them to her growing pile. Her mind was off on its own, as well, thinking back on the techniques and moves Alaric demonstrated and urged the three to practice whenever they had free time.

                Despite her rather exhausting job, other than the Founder’s Day Gala and the Miss Mystic Falls crowning in December, Caroline had very little planning to do. She was chaperoning the next Decades Dance the high school committee was organising, in two weeks, but November was a rather quiet month in general. That left Caroline with loads of free time – time she was planning to put into good practice.

                At first, as Caroline stood outside the frozen section, staring at the numerous pints of B&J and wondering which flavour to choose, she didn’t realise she was the object of someone’s scrutiny. Only when she saw from her peripheral the large male body move next to her, did she look up.

                “Ms. Forbes,” said the burly man, whom Caroline recognised as Logan Fell.

                “Hello,” replied Caroline cautiously. She knew most of the Fells – by reputation, if not by name – and Logan Fell was fairly famous in Mystic Falls for his role as the only “on location” news reporter. But how did he know _her_?

                Logan offered Caroline a wry twist of his lips as he opened one of the chilled freezer doors, reaching in and pulling out a tub of _Chunky Monkey_.

“My favourite,” he said, and Caroline narrowed her eyes.

                “Is it, now?” she asked.

                Logan smiled, although Caroline noticed it was a rather empty smile, a fake one someone uses to merely placate the person in front of them and emotionless.

                “It is,” he confirmed, the small, fake smile still on his lips. “Also one of your favourites, if your mother is to be believed; and surprisingly, Damon Salvatore’s. He shops he quite frequently. Apparently the cashiers are tasty as well.”

                Caroline’s eyes grew wide, and “Excuse me?” escaped her mouth in a squeak, rather than an explosively loud _Holy shit, you know they’re vampires?!_

                Caroline flushed red in her cheeks when Logan Fell’s smile tightened into a smirk. “Don’t play dumb, Caroline. You may be blonde but you don’t fall into the stereotype at all. Straight-A student, numerous scholarships into university; you don’t get those by being _unintelligent_.”

                “But still,” continued Caroline’s mouth, heedless of her brain’s mental warnings. “Damon Salvatore has a craving for _Chunky Monkey?_ _Seriously_?”

                “He’s got a craving for _sweet_ things,” replied Logan darkly, glancing at Caroline’s neck as he said so. Involuntarily, Caroline’s hand rose and gently touched the side of her neck where Damon had bitten her numerous times. Her hand fluttered away from her throat and she let it drop to her side, suddenly very conscious of her shorts and loose-fitting knit sweater over her sports bra.

                “So you know,” she said, instead, turning to face the freezer, stubbornly keeping her eyes straight ahead.

                “About them? All Founding Families do,” answered Logan tightly. “And imagine our surprise when we found a body in the woods the other month, all mangled and drained of blood. It wasn’t much of a stretch to realise who would be back in Mystic Falls – and then lo and behold, dear, sweet, little Caroline Forbes, the Sheriff’s daughter, attends the Ball with a new beau on her arm, by the name of Damon Salvatore.”

                “How much do you know?” whispered Caroline.

                Logan looked at her as though she were an idiot for even asking such a question, although Caroline, keeping her cheek determinedly to him, barely noticed the look – being blonde, she received a lot of those looks, especially during her high school days.

“When our ancestors burned the vampires back in 1867, they made a pact to teach their children so they were aware of the dangers in this world,” answered Logan, also turning so that their profiles were matched, as he looked into the freezer. “But it seems like not _all_ the families were keeping up their end of the pact.”

                “Clearly,” quipped Caroline, opening the freezer door, and pulling out a pint of _New York Super Fudge Chunk_ to add to her basket.

                “Stay away from them, Caroline,” said Logan in a low tone. “If you don’t, they’ll kill you.”

                “Yeah,” she said to his back as he began walking away, “Damon’s already tried, thanks for the memo, but it’s a bit late.” Once he turned from the aisle, she muttered, “Asshole.”

                With a sigh, she moved away from the ice cream section and began making her way to the front to pay, idly considering Logan’s warning. Damon had already been in her house, in her room, and – Caroline made a disgusted face – in her bed. His invitation couldn’t be revoked, and Bonnie’s protection spell needed to be renewed every month on the full moon. Perhaps it was time for Caroline to move out? To find her own place?

                On one hand, she didn’t want to – because finding an apartment in Mystic Falls meant that saving up the money for getting the hell out of the place would be incredibly difficult and it was as close as a declaration of having a mortgage, a white picket fence, a dog, and two-point-size-kids while attending church every Sunday for her mother. And Caroline was meant for the world – not this strange, small town.

                But, getting her own place meant that Damon would come after her and leave her mother alone, and leave (ideally) her childhood home. Plus, a new place wouldn’t have a Salvatore invitation – Caroline would be free to sleep at night without fears of Damon sneaking into her room and compelling her again, and then—

                She shook the thoughts off. Jenna was a real estate agent on the side of the Doctorate studies, from a previous employment track that went off the rails when Logan Fell was caught cheating and Jenna left Mystic Falls. Caroline could ask her if she had any low-rent apartments available.

                A smile lit up Caroline’s face as she began mentally planning an apartment, choosing paint colours and furniture, a house warming party and what food would be served and what music played; as well as where she could hide potential stakes and other vervain-like items designed to stop vampires.

                At the checkout lane, Caroline’s eyes were drawn to the magazine rack and the various magazines on display. She quickly scanned the headlines – _Ooh, another Kardashian scandal_ , _hmmm... Leanne Rimes needs to seriously put on some weight and Blake Shelton looks good on TV Guide..._ – when one in particular caught her eye. Normally, she wouldn’t purchase the magazine because she only participated in the sport recreationally, despite winning awards through her university team; she was never really serious about it. And while the young, smartly-dressed woman in a brown, fitted jacket and white jodhpurs didn’t draw Caroline’s attention, the model’s accessories did.

                Other than some seriously wicked kick-ass boots that Caroline was immediately envious of, her eyes were drawn to the dark brown riding crop the model had in her hand, a bit of the leather strap wrapped around in her fist and a small, short braid of leather hanging from it.

                _“Your biggest asset,” began Alaric, as he positioned Elena’s right arm in front of her and aiming the wrist crossbow, “Isn’t any weapon you carry, because anyone can hold a gun and not know how to use it and be dangerous – but any weapon you carry that you_ know _how to use because it isn’t originally meant as a weapon.” Elena aptly demonstrated this as she let the dart fly from the wrist crossbow and it fell short of the intended target Alaric had set up on the far side of their training area. He continued, motioning Elena to pick up her cheerleading baton, “A terrified cook wielding a frying pan is far scarier than a schoolteacher who eats out all the time. But I wouldn’t want to be up against a schoolteacher with a five-pound hardcover book in their arms, or a schoolteacher using a metre stick or chalk pointer. Who knows what they could do with it?”_

_Elena then twirled the baton in her right hand, adding a few flairs and flips with it that were easy to do once someone knew how to do them but looked dead impressive to an unskilled eyes. The baton had been laced with vervain earlier and with Elena’s twirls getting faster and faster, she suddenly let the baton fly as she neared a practice dummy, drawing the edge of the baton across its neck._

_“And that,” declared Alaric as Caroline and Bonnie inspected a red line across the dummy’s neck to indicate a wound, “Is how you would handle an everyday weapon against someone who is only going to see a frightened young woman, instead of a capable young woman who can bring down a vampire.”_

                An idea blossomed in Caroline’s mind. Elena had her wrist crossbow that Alaric wanted her to continue to train with, as well as the majority of their cheerleading accessories and equipment since she and Bonnie kept up with cheerleading at Whitmore. Caroline enjoyed cheerleading, but she enjoyed organising and leading the team more than the actual cheers. As such, she didn’t use batons or pompoms and Duke University wasn’t that mediocre when it came to cheer equipment; however, the equestrian team on the other hand...

                With several plans coming together in her head, Caroline was suddenly feeling a lot better, despite Logan’s efforts earlier to warn her about Damon. After all, he was a bit late with them, given what already happened.

                She wasn’t girly little Caroline anymore. She was strong, she was wise, and in this case, knowing was definitely half the battle. Caroline quickly handed over the twenty-dollar bill the cashier asked for, bagged her purchases, and was swiftly moving to her car, Bonnie’s number in her cell phone before she even left the building. She’d need Bonnie’s stash of vervain if she wanted to put her plan in motion.

*

                On the morning of November fifth, Caroline left her house early in the morning, intent on meeting Jenna outside the Grill. Her friends’ aunt had agreed to show her some of the apartments in Mystic Falls, including some of the older converted buildings, which would be cheaper for her. Caroline had neglected to tell her mother about her plan, as Logan Fell had confirmed that she knew of vampires and yet kept it a secret; if she could keep something as large as an entire supernatural species from her daughter, then Caroline could keep house hunting from her.

                So she was sneaking out of the house, like she was seventeen again and meeting up with Elena, Bonnie, Matt, and Tyler Lockwood at the lake for the back to school bashes the teens threw, hoping to not wake her mother and alert her of her plans.

                Unfortunately, Caroline’s cell phone didn’t get the memo, blaring out _It’s Gonna Be Me_ from N*Sync. (Yes, Caroline’s choice in ringtone for her friends were awfully childish at times, but they were her choices, thankyouverymuch) “Elena. Hi. What’s up?”

                “Caroline? Can you do me this super big, massive favour?” asked Elena.

                “It depends on what that favour is,” replied Caroline, juggling a porcelain travel mug, a large tote back filled with her notes, laptop and work-related accessories, and her car keys, as she made her way across the drive and away from the porch.

                “Umm... could you possibly help me plan a party for the Grill, tonight?”

                “ _Tonight_?!”

                “I know it’s short notice,” pleaded Elena, “But you’re awesome at this sort of thing, and I just found out it’s Stefan’s birthday”—

                “Excuse me, Elena,” said Caroline carefully, unlocking her car and tossing her tote bag in as she carefully set her mug down in the cup holder, taking a deep breath and counting to five before shrieking, “Since _when_ are you still talking to him?!”

                “He’s not Damon,” argued Elena. “Stefan’s not like him, at all. And we’re friends. Again.”

                “You weren’t friends  _before_ ,” muttered Caroline. “You wanted in his pants. His _undead_ pants, might I remind you?”

                “You were in Damon’s,” snapped Elena immediately, and Caroline’s eyebrows rose.

                “Yeah, because I totally _had a choice_ , Elena!” Caroline responded heatedly, breathing heavily through her nose as she eased into her car. “Look, I’m meeting Jenna in ten. I’ll think about it. If i do it, you owe me so fucking big, it’ll be the size of the solar system, got it?”

                “Got it,” chirped Elena happily. “I’ll be hearing from you shortly.”

                As she hung up, Caroline muttered, “Not anytime soon, I promise,” and started her engine. She was beginning to think that today was a bad day to get out of bed.

*

                Finally, after seven viewings, (four apartments, one loft, and two townhouses) Caroline decided she was entirely too nice and texted Elena to inform her that she’d be at the Grill for five and would have everything ready as long a Elena took care of the guest list and ensured Stefan arrived by eight. As if that had magically changed the tone of the afternoon, the next building Jenna showed Caroline – and the last she had on her comps in Caroline’s price range – approached.

                Located at the intersection of White Oak Avenue (which led to the highway and out of town) and Main Street, but all the way down the main drag so that it was located on the outskirts of the inner town and opposite the church and graveyard, was Mystic Fall’s public library. Added in 1923 when the population boomed and reading materials were necessary for the growing number of children in the local schools, the building was small and stood on its own; the nearest building was a flower shop, separated by an alleyway that Jenna indicated led to the car park at the back of the building.

It was a two storey, red brick square with a single bay-turret on the far end of the building, at the end of Main Street, facing White Oak. The ground floor door was large, solid wood – _original_ , Caroline thought as she and Jenna approached it, with Jenna pulling out an old key from an envelope – with a half-round stained glass design above it. All the windows on the ground floor, which were overly large and wide, with two windowpanes separated by a wooden centrepiece, had a half-round window above them, creating a round top design. Around the door and windows, the bricks were stacked around the shape, providing a design frame.

The turret rose to a third level, its peaked roof and wind vane towering over the sloped roof and the square-shaped second floor windows that jutted out of the sloped grade. Creeping vines, bare of their leaves and flowers due to the season, snaked up from the ground to the second floor, wrapping up and around the Mansard roof and second floor windows.

                 “I know you work for the town,” began Jenna as she eased the key into the massive bronze lock, grabbing the doorknob and twisted it, “But I’m not sure if you know this – not all of the documents from the town’s early years are located in the town hall, but rather here. The library was turned into an extension of the town records hall, because they ran out of room in the basement. They removed most of the early stuff, until about nineteen-ten, and put them here.”

                “I didn’t,” replied Caroline, stepping into the foyer. What was once a large, open space for patrons to visit the library, was now reduced to half its original size. Despite that, large white tiles – marble – lay on the floor leading to a smooth, brown, curving staircase that curled up to the left. There were two matching wooden doors, one on either side of the stairs and opposite of each other.

                “There are two units,” explained Jenna, “The downstairs, which is actually used as the archival room,” here, Jenna pointed at the door on their right, “And the upstairs, which is tenant-ready and vacant. No one likes the building, apparently,” explained Jenna with an eyebrow wag, “It’s too quiet and people think it’s haunted.”

                “Haunted?” replied Caroline with a tiny laugh. After vampires and werewolves, a ghost wasn’t something scary or anything Caroline couldn’t handle.

                “Who knows?” laughed Jenna in response.

                “What’s in the other door, at the bottom of the turret?” asked Caroline, as Jenna led her up the wooden stairs. The interior walls were new, smooth white plaster, but an original chandelier hung from a smooth, white ceiling, which was obviously new and plastered over as well.

                “A spare room. It was primarily used for storage, but it’s empty now,” explained Jenna. “Maybe you can use it as your office? You are in a town-owned building and work for the town, after all.”

                Caroline hummed her agreement. After climbing the stairs and standing on a small landing that overlooked the entrance foyer, Jenna took out another key and handed it to Caroline, gesturing for her to open the only door at the top of the stairs.

                Caroline slid the key in the lock, twisted it, and turned the knob (which matched the front door), and gasped as she stepped into the converted attic. Completely remodeled with matching white plaster and the rooms removed to create an open concept, loft feel, Jenna began listing the highlights of the apartment.

                Original dark, oak wood floors; built-in storage underneath the built-in window seats, including a nook in the turret section; a spiral, metal staircase hidden behind the door led up to the bedroom loft, which they could explore later. The kitchen and living space was combined, a drastic slope of the roof meeting the far wall combined low under-counter cabinets and a sink as well as a built-in light wood table with a matching bench, while on the car-park wall, the cabinets extended to include a stove and then, as the roof slope heightened, the refrigerator and pantry. Opposite that wall were two windows jutting from the Mansard roof, including more storage that is built-in and window seats, as well as a large white space in-between for a television set.

                Next to the fridge was a door, which Jenna explained led to the bathroom. Caroline opened it to reveal nineteen-twenty inspired, but modernised, bathroom: a large, soak-in Victorian tub with curved shower rod, curtain, and chrome showerhead as one entered the bathroom, a standalone sink pedestal with a deep sink and matching chrome faucets. In addition, there was a modern toilet opposite the sink and next to the tub in the room, while all appliances stood on black-and-white floor tile with white subway tiles that rose to waist height. A single window, overlooking Main Street, had a wooden built-in that was merely an open cupboard for towels and storage.

                After climbing the dark metal spiral staircase into the turret, Caroline saw that the third floor, while not large, had matching wooden floor as the main living space, and four windows facing out to White Oak Avenue and the graveyard, was enough for her queen bed, two matching bedside tables, and a wardrobe. There were no window seats built into the turret up in the bed area, providing just enough room.

                Caroline loved the place. “I want it,” she told Jenna, determination ringing in her voice. Moreover, it was _hers_ , Damon hadn’t ever come into its space, there was enough room in the living area for her to work out and practice her Buffy skills. The place was light and airy, due to the new plaster, and the rent (a steal of under a seven hundred a month) wouldn’t set her back from her dreams of escaping Mystic Falls once the drama was over.

                “Great,” answered Jenna, opening her tote bag and pulling out a binder, “Let’s go over the terms of the rent and sign the property over to you.”

                After signing, Caroline would plan Elena’s stupid birthday party for Stefan, but then she planned on heading back to her mothers’ to begin packing. A new part of her life was starting now, and she didn’t want to wait to move out – the sooner, the better.

*

                Caroline’s last minute party plans were a success: Matt called in another line cook for the Grill and had an entire selection of party finger foods steadily pumping out of the kitchen for hungry party-goers (mainly friends of Elena); satellite radio pumped out over the speakers, commercial-free; and Matt was behind the bar serving drinks, wearing a big grin as the tips rolled in. Elena was with Bonnie by the dartboard, speaking to Stefan and another girl with long, blonde hair.

                As Caroline made her way to them, for a quick hello and then dash, she spotted Damon hovering by the bar, nursing a drink and her smile widened. If he was here, he wouldn’t be anywhere near her mother’s house when she began packing. A spring in her step, Caroline reached Elena and drew her into a hug.

                “This is fantastic, thank you so much, Caroline!” Elena gushed, her eyes then raking up and down her friend in her classy purple dress. “And you look great! Are you staying long?”

                “Only a bit,” replied Caroline, “I’ve got other plans tonight.”

                “Look like that, I bet you do,” laughed Bonnie, also drawing their friend into a hug. “Go get ‘em, Tiger.” The rest of that sentence, _especially after Damon_ , went unsaid.

                “Caroline.”

                The blonde turned away from Bonnie and Elena to see Stefan, wearing a black shirt and dark jeans, stare at her thoughtfully. “I’m told that you planned this?”

                Although she was still slightly hesitant about spending time around him and his brother, Caroline nodded. She wasn’t sure she could trust either of them, but so far, Stefan hadn’t tried to hurt her and Elena and Bonnie seemed to like him. “Yes. Do you like it?”

                “It’s great. Thank you,” answered Stefan, in the same even voice he usually used. “Have you met Lexi yet? She’s my best friend. I’ve known her my entire life.”

                _Vampire life, you mean_ , thought Caroline to herself as she smiled at the other blonde-haired woman, a petite, pretty woman with a round face and bright smile. She wore all black, as well, with heavy eye makeup, and was holding a shot in each hand.

                “Hi!” she greeted Caroline, taking one shot and handing her the other. “I try to see Stef every year on his birthday. Having the Alt Rock station on is _perfect_ , we once stalked Bon Jovi for an entire American tour because he’s Stefan’s favourite.”

                Caroline wasn’t sure if she should have been creeped out by the admission, or feel pity for Bon Jovi. Instead, she settled for, “Enjoy yourselves, okay? I need to get home soon.”

                “Already?” asked Elena, with a pout. “Are you sure you can’t stay for another drink?”

                “Nope,” replied Caroline, “I’m driving.”

                Elena moaned a bit more, but then relented. “Fine. At least walk by Jer and check out his friend from university for me, and then text me what you think.”

                Caroline raised her eyebrows and scratched her nose as she looked around the crowded restaurant, spotting Elena’s brother with a short Asian girl. Both were sharing a table and leaning in closely to one another. The girl’s head was tilted in their direction and Caroline rolled her eyes. She was clearly listening in, and doing so from across the room. Jeremy’s friend was a vampire, and given that Jeremy already knew about them – due to his handling of the Vicki situation – Caroline was beginning to think he was a supernatural groupie.

                Exiting the Mystic Grill, Caroline shivered in the November breeze, her phone in her hand as she texted Elena her thoughts on Jeremy’s friend. Later, when she was at her mother’s – her childhood home – when her phone beeped, indicating a text.

                Thinking it was Elena, Caroline finished packing her first suitcase of her summer clothes, things she’d leave in storage in a wardrobe in the bedroom, and letting her friend stew while waiting for a response of whatever she wanted. Caroline was _not_ at Elena’s beck and call.

                When another message came through, Caroline sighed and retrieved her phone with an eye roll, wondering what catastrophe struck the Grill now. Instead, her eyes widened.

                _Planning a visit to Virginia, sweetheart – care to meet up?_ The first message read.

Then, the second: _Lexi’s dead. Damon killed her. The FF attacked the Grill. Stefan’s really upset. Can u come by?_

Caroline didn’t know which text to respond to. On one hand, she was elated – Nik was coming for a visit! And wanted to see her again! On the other, Elena _did_ have a problem that she wanted her friends’ help with and Caroline was being asked to do something she didn’t really care to do. What worried her more was where _Damon_ was.

She sent a text asking such, and didn’t like the response.

 _Dunno. Stefan said he was talking to UR mom and Myr Lockwood. Then he left_.

Fuck.

Misplacing Damon was a bad idea.

Who knew what he could get up to?

A knock on her front door made Caroline groan, as she realised where Damon had disappeared off to – her house!

She left her bedroom, shutting the door from any prying eyes and made her way down the hall, sighing as she saw Damon’s distinctive height in the frosted glass of the front door. She pulled it open with a sigh, eyeing the vampire warily.

“Damon,” she said.

The tall, black haired, blue-eyed devil smirked. “Caroline,” he said, stepping into her house and shouldering past her as he did so.

“Yes, please, come in, make yourself at home,” muttered Caroline, her eyes darting to the umbrella stand where a vervain-soaked stake was hidden. She remained standing in the entrance.

“Need your help, Blondie,” said Damon.

“No.”

“I haven’t even asked yet,” protested Damon with a chuckle, sitting down on the couch in the living room and then stretching his arms out along the back.

“It’s still ‘no,’” replied Caroline, crossing her arms.

Damon sighed. “We’re all on the same side, now, Blondie. Sabrina’s going to do her witchy juju and open the tomb, and then I’m gone from here. I’m not going to harm anyone or anything between now and then. You were there when I gave my word.”

“It’s still no, Damon,” sighed Caroline.

“Oh, c’mon,” wheedled Damon, leaning forward and resting his elbows on his knees. “I need your help.”

Caroline’s eyebrows rose up. “With what?”

“I don’t think my brother was honest in his reasoning for being in Mystic Falls,” replied Damon, staring at Caroline steadily. “Something’s not right.”

“How do you know?” asked Caroline, tilting her head.

“I’ve been following my brother for the past one hundred and thirty eight years,” replied Damon slowly. “Not always, but most of the time. When he was a Ripper, when he was with Lexi”—

“Who is dead now, by the way, great job there,” interrupted Caroline sardonically with an eye roll. Damon continued speaking.

“—when he was in New Orleans and Chicago, I was there too,” continued Damon. “He’s always been a bit dark, unable to balance his bunny diet with his bloodlust. But this? Here, and now? It’s... conniving. Something’s not right.”

“Stefan’s _not_ conniving?” gapped Caroline mockingly. “I thought it ran in the Salvatore family.”

“Shut it, Blondie,” snapped Damon. “This is definitely off. He would’ve had my head for attacking you or coming near you, Elena, and the witch. He didn’t.”

“So what do you need me for?” asked Caroline warily. “I’m on vervain, so don’t even think about compelling me.”

“I need you to be my date at the 50s decade dance on Friday.”

“ _Seriously_?” laughed Caroline. “Why?”

Damon scowled. “I need you to be the Bonnie to my Clyde, Blondie.”

“I’m not robbing any banks with you, Damon,” laughed Caroline, tossing her head and shaking her blonde hair out. “Not a chance.”

“Stefan’s going with Elena as chaperones. Bonnie will be there too,” said Damon, rising from the couch and moving towards Caroline, stalking her. Caroline held her ground as he moved closer. “I want to keep an eye on Stefan. You can keep an eye on Elena and your friends. I just – I need to watch him some more and have an excuse to do so.”

“Cuz you can’t in your own home?” snipped Caroline.

“Pretty much, yeah,” replied Damon.

Caroline sighed, rubbing her hand against her forehead. “I’m going to regret this,” she muttered. “Touch me and I’ll drive a stake through your heart, Salvatore. Got it?”

“Vividly.”

The two shook on it, Caroline’s skin crawling as she did so. Quickly, she dropped his hand, and opened the front door. “Goodbye, Damon.”

“Night, Blondie,” the tall vampire said, stepping out onto the porch, and then disappearing quickly as he sped away.

                Caroline sighed as she shut the door, locked it, and headed back to her bedroom to finish packing before her mother returned from her evening shift. She felt like she made a deal with the devil, but, as she thought to herself, _wasn’t she having the same thoughts about Stefan since they met?_

*

                Klaus looked at his phone as it beeped, reading Caroline’s reply with a small quirk of his lips. _Sounds good. Where and when? Do you need a place to stay?_

                Although Greta had informed Klaus of Katarina’s movement a week previous, it took some time to organise the right people and make plans for the transportation of his family to the States. He could charter a private plane and compel customs to ignore the five coffins, but sometimes it was a hassle – he would have to be there in person (he never trusted his vampire staff with his family), and then someone would inevitably annoy him, he’d snap a few necks, drain a few humans, and it was all very messy and tedious.

                So, he applied for the appropriate forms, and now was on the tarmac of Gatwick, ready to track his elusive vampire Doppelganger to Caroline’s hometown. A part of him was terrified that Katarina would find Caroline and snuff her light out, extinguish her soul, but another part of him was certain that Mystic Falls, although small (he had Googled it) was large enough that Katarina might not even run across the full-of-light human.

                He was hoping she wouldn’t; after all, there one night in Paris was a carefully concealed matter, as he was supposed to have been in Brussels instead – all his associates thought he was there and while out with Caroline, they hadn’t run across any other vampires. Even Elijah, who liked to keep tabs on him (he still didn’t know that _Klaus_ knew he was watching him), hadn’t found him in Paris. There was nothing to tie Caroline to him.

                Nothing but his memories.

                At first, after he dropped her off at CdG, he stared at her scrawled address on his hand and wondered what he had done, cavorting with a human so freely, without biting her, draining her of her blood, disposing of her body. He wondered why the taste of her chapstick lingered, the scent of her perfume on his shirt made him smile.

                At first, in the Louvre, she was a lonely, easy target staring at a painting with a furrowed brow, indicating she didn’t understand the piece and was, therefore, uncultured. Then, they spoke – and she analysed the piece with a crazy amount of BS that Klaus found himself amused by her and her bold analysis instead of disgusted by her.

                And then they were pulled into conversation and he found he quite liked Caroline Forbes, with her sassy one-liners, her over-use of “seriously?” to indicate astonishment, exasperation; Klaus found he liked her quick wit and her art background, as well as the fact that she was deceptively simple while remaining complex. She was a walking contradiction of shy naïveté and aware confidence. But most of all, she was bright, happy, engaging, full of life.

                He, who usually snuffed life out callously, found himself drawn to her instead, like a moth to flame.

                And then he burned when they lost themselves to each other in bed. She wasn’t as experienced as other partners he had, but she put her all into the act, drawing him in further to her light as she made him feel like the only man in her life, for those brief hours.

                He wanted that, for the rest of his eternal life. To be first, to be someone’s love, to be unconditionally chosen and worshipped by someone who thought he hung the moon. Caroline, for that last day in Paris, fed him all that.

                Looking back, Klaus realised that was the beginning of his obsession with Caroline Forbes. One that he continued to fuel as he raced to Virginia, although he told himself it was due to Katarina Petrova. In reality, it was an excuse to see Caroline.

                He learned all he could about her, set a trust-worthy vampire to follow her during the last of her spring term and the summer, to her home in Mystic Falls, to learn her habits. She lived alone with her mother in a still-mortgaged bungalow; her father lived with his male partner in Georgia; she had a grandfather Bob and grandmother Mary on her mother’s side that was alive and no cousins; despite being a social creature, she was in fact, incredibly lonely.

                Klaus emphasised.

                He could offer her the world, companionship, friendship; the things she craved when she moved to North Carolina for school. He could take her the next step further, if she wanted. But he would turn her first. Make her like him, a vampire, someone who could eternally shower him with the same affection she demonstrated in Paris.

                Klaus had determined that immediately upon his return to London, a day after meeting Caroline. It would be a slow build, give her time to adjust to him, thinking he was human, before he sprung immortality on her. Maybe she would even want it – he could dream.

                First, though, he had to protect his interest.

*

                Caroline didn’t tell anyone she moved out of her childhood home, enjoying the peace and quiet of no one knowing where she was. Her mother had, predictably, shed some tears, thinking that Caroline was settling and demonstrating she was ready to stay in Mystic Falls forever, perhaps even begin dating one of the many Fells in town.

                Well, one less Fell. After Lexi’s death by Damon’s hand, Logan Fall transitioned into a vampire and Elena and Alaric had staked him. The vampire had kidnapped Damon and managed to spring a few surprised vervain-soaked stakes into the Civil War era vampire, leaving Elena and Alaric to save him.

                However, the person who turned Logan Fell remained a mystery, which set Elena, Bonnie, Caroline, Alaric, and even Stefan and Damon, on edge. Another vampire in town without them being aware wasn’t good, and Elena had disagreed with Caroline’s assessment of Jeremy’s university friend.

                “Looks like our partnership is will have another purpose,” Damon said to Caroline over the phone the night of the decade dance, as she got ready in her new apartment. “I’ll watch Stefan, you’ll watch your friends, and we’ll both try to find the shady new vampire in town. All those teenagers in a small, contained space? It’s a feast for them. They won’t resist.”

                “I just love how you’re capable of talking about humans like we’re a delectable five-star meal,” deadpanned Caroline as she leaned close to the mirror over her sink, opening her mouth and lining her eyes with eyeliner.

                “It’s a talent,” replied Damon. “Are you ready yet? I’m on my way to your house.”

                “I’m not there,” replied Caroline, realising she either had to come clean about her living arrangements, or lie.

                There was a huff on the other line. “Then _where_ are you, Blondie?”

                “I’ll meet you at the school,” tried Caroline.

                “Not a chance. None of us are going alone,” answered Damon quickly. “Bonnie and Elena are going together with Alaric and Stefan is already there.”

                Caroline sighed, putting her eyeliner down and admiring her Jackie O costume. “Fine. I’m at my apartment.”

                Damon whistled. “Well, well, Blondie. Who knew? Where’s this new pad? I can’t wait to see it.”

                “You’re not coming in,” warned Caroline as she gave the address. “Ever, ever, ever.”

                “You’ll change your mind,” chuckled Damon throatily.

                Caroline scoffed. “Nope.” She then hung up on him and left her apartment, meeting him outside the front door on the street instead.

                He whistled at her as he pulled up in his blue convertible, eyes roaming her from head to toe. “Lookin’ good, Blondie.”

                Caroline rolled her eyes and slid into the passenger seat, clutching her matching pink purse in her white-gloved hands. Her matching blazer and skirt were conservative, but also hid a riding crop attached to the inside of her thigh and a bottle of vervain disguised as perfume in her purse.

                “I can’t be out too late,” said Caroline as Damon pulled away, “So this little partnership needs to be over by ten.”

                “How come?”

                “I’ve got a friend visiting from abroad tomorrow.”

                “A friend, huh?” Damon glanced at Caroline and wiggled his eyebrows, making her shake her head in exasperation.

 _Sometimes, Damon was such a child_ , thought Caroline, almost fondly. She’d never get over what he did to her, and he wasn’t about to apologise, but this showed that they could, at the very least, work together.

                “Yes, a friend,” stressed Caroline. “He needs a place to stay since he’s only driving through.”

                “A _male_ friend,” chortled Damon with a wide grin. “Blondie, you are _full_ of surprises.”

                “Damon, shut up,” said Caroline, “Or I _will_ stake you.”

                “Party pooper.”

                They pulled into a vacant parking space in a very full parking lot at the school, watching as teenagers in various stages of fifties dress walked into the brightly lit gym. Finally, after people watching a few minutes, Damon exited the car and sped around to Caroline’s side – the very image of a gentleman as he opened the door and offered her his crooked arm. She took it, a question on her lips. “Did people actually look like this?”

                At first, Damon glanced at her in surprise, but then his face softened. It was the first time someone had asked him about the passing of time, in a roundabout way.

                “A bit, yeah,” answered Damon, his eyes lingering on a young girl wearing the entirely wrong decade.

                The gym was decorated with a large video screen, showing black and white images of Mystic Falls during the 1950s, as well as other iconic American images; party streamers and helium-filled balloons were strung in clumps or stretched from one end of the gym to the other. Several tables were placed around and near the refreshment area, so people could have somewhere to place their drinks.

                “Looks nice,” commented Caroline, listening to _Mr. Sandman_ as it blasted across the speaker system.

                Damon’s head lolled as he casually stretched and gazed from one corner of the gym to the other, taking in the sights. “I’ve spotted Elena and Stefan. You going to be fine on your own?”

                Caroline gapped up at him. “ _Now_ you’re worried about me?”

                Damon smirked down at her. “You’re Elena’s friend. I have to now.”

                She rolled her eyes and cut through the crowd, opposite of Damon and hoping to cover more ground. Although Stefan did give her the creeps sometimes, Elena was fairly safe with him, based on the fact that so far, Stefan hadn’t done anything versus his brother, who _had_. Despite that, Caroline felt enough caution to warrant being wary of them both, like Bonnie. It seemed that it was Elena who didn’t care that they were vampires, and had already forgot what Damon did to her.

                An hour into the dance, Caroline had spoken to Jeremy and his friend, Anna, as well as Alaric, Elena and Stefan; she and Bonnie had spent some time at one of the refreshment tables sipping from white cups a fruit punch, and now it was hitting her.

                All the ground floor toilets were open and operational for the school dances, while the second floor was off limits to all. Caroline swiftly made her way to the first available toilet without a long line, cutting through hallways and loitering crowds.

                She took off her blazer to wash her hands, clad only in a thin, square-necked tank top that tucked into her matching light pink skirt. She was lathering soap on her hands when the bathroom door opened and Elena stepped in.

                “Managed to leave Stefan’s side, did you?” commented Caroline idly, looking at her hands and not her friend.

                “Briefly,” drawled Elena.

                Caroline hesitated in her lathering and looked at her friend. “Only briefly?” she teased, while mentally taking note of Elena’s change in timbre and voice tone. She had also curled her hair, wore darker eye makeup than what Caroline saw a few minutes ago, and as she walked towards Caroline at the sinks, was over-exaggerating her heeled steps, swinging her hips back and forth as she walked.

                _This wasn’t Elena_.

                The imposter’s lips drew into a tiny, smile, a tint of maliciousness in her eyes as she stopped a few paces away from Caroline, who returned to lathering her hands and then rinsing the soap off under the tap.

                “I left Stefan to speak to Damon,” the imposter said, placing a hand on her hip and cocking it out as she observed Caroline, who reached next to and above her blazer on the counter for the paper towel dispenser.

                “What did he want?” asked Caroline, playing along. She hoped her heartbeat – thundering in her chest – wasn’t too loud. She just needed to reach the stake in her jacket...

                “Something about another vampire in town,” the woman drawled, taking a step towards Caroline, who finished drying her hands and crumpled the paper towels into a ball, and then pushing them into the garbage.

                Caroline gathered her folded blazer in her arms, the hand covered by it reaching it and grasping the vervain-soaked stake in the jacket pocket. “He did say something about that to me, too, but I don’t think it’s that important.”

                “Isn’t it?” the imposter asked, their eyes alit with intent.

                “Not anymore,” replied Caroline, just as the Elena lookalike darted forward.

Caroline brought the stake out and slammed it hard into the woman’s upper left torso, missing her heart but painfully blistering the skin. The woman screamed, hissing as blood oozed from around the stake.

Not waiting to see what happened next, Caroline pushed past her and slammed the toilet door open, only making it a few feet before she slammed into something, hard. Two hands grasped her shoulders and hauled her upright. Caroline’s eyes met Damon’s, who was looking down at her in confusion.

“Are you alright?” he asked.

Caroline scoffed. “I think I found the vampire.”

“You did?”

“Well,” amended Caroline, glancing nervously over her shoulder. “ _She_ found _me_.”

The girl’s toilet door burst open, and the Elena lookalike flew out towards Damon and Caroline, black veins stretching from under her eyes and to her temples, with her eyes completely black. Her fangs were exposed and she hissed as she reached forward, only to pause when she spotted Damon.

“Damon,” the woman said, the veins around her eyes and fangs receding.

Damon, who was already pale from being dead, seemed to pale further. “ _Katherine_.”

“It’s been a long time,” the woman continued, a smirk on her face. “How’ve you been? Did you miss me?”

“That night at Elena’s... that was you,” muttered Damon, letting go of Caroline. She immediately stood next to him, if not a little behind, trying to make herself as small as possible by turning sideways. Katherine – the woman Damon thought was in the tomb – had yanked the stake out and left it somewhere where Caroline could not use it again.

“Guilty,” sang Katherine, stepping closer. Damon was watching her carefully.

“You were never in the tomb.”

“No,” admitted Katherine. “But it was fun watching you pine away for me.”

A look broke across Damon’s face, one that Caroline recognised: the look of not being good enough for someone, for being someone’s second choice. Damon had realised, a little too late, if he age was any indication that Katherine wasn’t interested in him, and probably never had been.

Shuttered, Damon tonelessly asked, “What are you doing here, Katherine?”

She pursed her lips and strutted forward, drawing a single finger across her lips as she fake contemplated her answer. “Mmmm, I was just passing through. Heard about my little Doppelganger, Elena. Thought I’d see what all the fuss was about myself – and there wasn’t anything special about her. Then I saw Stefan stayed in town. I thought I might visit with my favourite Salvatore brother.”

                Caroline did her best to control her face as disgust washed through her. The stupid vampire played both brothers against each other and was trying to do so again! Caroline had no respect or time for people like that.

                “As you can see, he’s busy,” she interrupted, speaking up for the first time and drawing Katherine’s attention on her.

                “Yes,” groused Katherine, glancing back towards the gym down the hall. “With a girl who looks _exactly like me_.”

                Yeah, thought Caroline, that did kinda say something about Stefan Salvatore, didn’t it?

                She and Damon shared a look before turning back to Katherine, who was watching them with an unreadable expression.

                “Had any local snacks lately, Katherine?” asked Damon nonchalantly, which was incredibly obvious.

                Katherine gave a raspy chuckle. “You mean those ‘animal attacks,’ Damon? No, I didn’t have anything to do with them. I’m here for a different purpose.”

                “Purpose? Like what?” asked Damon, furrowing his brow.

                “Not yet, Damon,” chided Katherine, wagging a finger at him. “Patience.”

                “The hell with patience!” he burst out, speeding towards Katherine and wrapping a hand around her neck, hauling her off the floor and against some lockers. “What are you doing here, Katherine?”

                Caroline shifted uneasily, watching the unfolding drama with a sense of ill ease. “Damon, this isn’t the time or place.”

                Katherine smiled. “Listen to the human, Damon.”

                “Not until you tell me why you’re here,” growled Damon, tightening his grip. Caroline watched as Katherine merely rolled her eyes.

                The two vampires blurred for a moment, and then Katherine had Damon by the neck against the lockers. “You forget Damon, I’m nearly five hundred years old. I’ve got strength and age on you. _Don’t fight me_.”

                “You always liked being a domineering bitch, Katherine,” Damon choked out with a dirty smirk on his face. “I’ll figure out what you want here.”

                “Good luck,” she laughed. “But all I want is my freedom.”

                “Freedom?” Caroline murmured, all but forgotten until she spoke. Katherine turned from Damon to look at Caroline, her eyes sparkling as she decided on something that didn’t bode well for Caroline, who gulped and backed up slowly, away from the two vampires.

                “And you’re going to help me,” finished Katherine, bringing her other hand up to Damon’s chin and with a quick flick, she twisted his head and snapped his neck.

                With her only source of help indisposed, Caroline scrambled backwards and stumbled down the hall a few steps while Katherine stalked her at a human pace.

                “Me?” stalled Caroline, bringing a hand to her chest to indicate. “What could I possibly do to help _you_?”

                Katherine smirked. “You’ll see.”

                The vampire then sped towards Caroline, slamming into her with her vampire sped and pushing. Caroline was sailing through the air, landing painfully hard on her back with the wind knocked out of her. She wheezed, struggling to gulp down air several meters away from where she previously stood. Her pretty Jackie O hat dislodged from her head and its clips, pulling hair free and coming to a stop several feet away from her. Caroline didn’t know where her blazer or clutch was, either.

                Katherine appeared before her, one of her heels coming down to push on Caroline’s chest.

“I can collapse your chest cavity,” she began quietly. “Push down and down, harder and harder, until something breaks and your struggles to breathe become desperate. They’ll take you to the hospital, and you may survive. Or...”

She leaned down and wrapped a crushing hand around Caroline’s throat, squeezing. “I can do it this way instead. Much quicker.”

Caroline clawed at Katherine’s arm and its steely, strong grip against her throat. Any marks she made on Katherine disappeared nearly as quickly as she made them appear, the vampire healing from the scratches immediately.

Her struggles to breathe were desperate; black spots dotted her vision and the sound of her blood rushing through her head was pounding and incredibly loud. It drowned out all other noise except for the rasping she made as she tried to suck in air and the tiny wheezes of pain as Katherine crushed her windpipe.

Caroline’s free hand, the one that wasn’t wrapped around Katherine’s wrist, inched down her side and under her skirt, fumbling until she felt the riding crop. Tears leaked from Caroline’s eyes as the darkness of her spots grew. She grasped the crop handle tightly, with what strength she had left, and swung her arm out so the crop whipped against Katherine’s cheek.

The vampire howled with pain as the vervain-covered leather stuck to her cheek and she reeled back, letting go of Caroline’s neck in the process. Immediately, Caroline rolled to her side and curled up, drawing in deep gasps of air. The spotty vision remained, and the rush of blood in her ears did as well – or she would have heard the approaching footsteps.

“You stupid human!” shouted Katherine, yanking the leather crop from her face and throwing it aside. “I can find someone else for my plan!”

The vampire lunged at her, fangs extended, but a blur intercepted her from attacking Caroline and tossed her away and into the lockers, denting them and breaking one of the locker doors off.

At first, Caroline thought Damon’s broken neck had healed and he stood between her and Katherine, but then Caroline realised, through her slowly returning vision, that the hair colour was wrong, as was the height and clothing. While Damon was wearing a simple black suit and pink tie to match Caroline’s outfit, this man wore a black jacket and jeans.

“Hello, Katarina,” the man practically purred, oozing malevolence towards the female vampire.

Katherine slowly staggered to a standing position, one hand bracing herself against the broken lockers as she took in the man, her eyes growing wide. Without speaking, she dashed away, down the hall and through the swinging doors, leaving the school and leaving Caroline alone.

Caroline coughed, pushing herself up on her hands and drawing the man’s attention. He quickly walked over to her and kneeled beside her.  A hand cupped her cheek and slid into her hair, coming to rest at the back of her head intimately. The position made it possible for the man to turn Caroline’s head to face him while checking her over for head injuries, one that soon became apparent as his hand slid over a growing bump at the base of her head by her neck.

“Ow,” moaned Caroline.

“Sorry, sweetheart,” the man murmured, his voice tinged with a British accent. “I should’ve come sooner.”

The term of endearment, the accent, along with the man’s clothing, connected the dots in Caroline’s sluggish brain. _“Nik?”_

“Shh,” he said, sliding an arm under her knees while the other slipped down from her head to her back. He then swept her up and into her arms, moving in a smooth motion to stand. “Shh, you’re safe love, I’ve got you.”

Caroline carefully wrapped an arm around his neck and blinked as the last of her black dots faded and she took in his face. He was frowning, the corners of his lips turned down and his eyebrows met. There was a dark look in his eyes that Caroline didn’t recognise.

“I thought you were arriving by bus tomorrow,” she found herself saying.

“I missed you,” he replied, glancing down at her and quirking his lips into a small smile.

She smiled back. “I missed you too.” She then glanced around the hallway and asked, “Where did Damon go?”

“Who?”

“The man with me in the hall?” she elaborated. “Katherine went after him, too.”

At the name of the vampire, Nik’s hands tightened against Caroline and he drew her closer, continuing to walk down the hallway and towards the same swinging doors Katherine disappeared through.

“I didn’t see anyone, Caroline,” answered Nik. As they pushed through the doors, and exited into the front entrance hallway of the school, Nik carefully set Caroline down but kept an arm around her. “Can you stand?”

“Yes,” replied Caroline softly, although her knees felt wobbly and her head was pounding. She blinked tiredly. “I really hope I don’t have a concussion.”

“Let’s get you home, to be sure,” offered Nik quietly, reaching up with his free hand to smooth a wayward strand of hair behind her ear.

Caroline smiled at him shyly. “Sounds good. I should let my friends know that I’m leaving, though.”

Nik shrugged and Caroline bit her lip. Maybe telling her friends could wait – she had her Parisian hookup with her now and he was staying at hers for his trip; being selfish for a night (or two) wouldn’t hurt anyone.

“Never mind,” she said impulsively, sliding her own arm behind him to clutch at. “You’re here and that’s what is important. They can call in the morning.”

The smile that lit Nik’s face was enough for Caroline to realise she made the right decision, and together, they left the school.

*

                Klaus had rented a car, trying to keep up appearances by showing up a day earlier than he and Caroline had planned – he still thought it cute that she thought he was arriving by bus, how droll – and he guided her quickly towards the luxury Mercedes SUV in the school parking lot.

                Although he was gentle and soft towards her, inside he was boiling with anger and fury. How dare Katarina show her face and dare hurt Caroline! His dead heart had nearly dropped from his chest when he turned the corner of the hallway and saw Katarina with her hand wrapped around Caroline’s neck.

                He helped Caroline into the passenger seat and walked at a human pace around to the driver’s side. He wasn’t sure how much Caroline had seen as she recovered, and he didn’t want to tip his hand just yet.

                Once they were buckled in and Caroline began directing him to her apartment, she timidly asked, “You called her Katarina. But Damon and I know her as Katherine. Why does she have two names?”

                Klaus smoothly answered, “I knew her as Katarina Petrova. She stole something precious from me several years ago,” _try several hundred_ , “and I suppose she changed her name to hide herself.” _But now I know you’re here, Katarina. You can’t hide again_.

                “Huh,” replied Caroline, frowning. “She was terrified of you.”

                “She was,” he replied, smugly. He caught Caroline’s glance at him. “What?”

                Caroline laughed. “Feeling like the Big Bad Wolf, are you? Making her scared of you and showing her who is boss.”

                “Of course, love,” chuckled Klaus, leering at Caroline playfully, “Can’t you tell that I’m the Alpha male?”

                “Clearly,” she replied, rolling her eyes. The two settled into companionable silence, and Caroline finished directing him to her new apartment. He parked behind the back of the building, next to her bright yellow Prius.

                Caroline went to open the front door of the building while he grabbed his suitcase – had to keep appearances up – and he met her at the top of the stairs of the old building. She had left the door open and was coming towards the stairs.

                “I thought you may need help,” she said, eyeing his dufflebag, which he had slung over his shoulder.

                “No need, love,” he said lightly. “I’ve got what I need in here.”

                She nodded silently, stepping back and standing aside so he could precede her into the apartment. Klaus minutely hesitated. She hadn’t verbally acknowledged his entering of the apartment and without it, he couldn’t enter.

                “Ladies first,” he offered.

                “You’re my guest,” countered Caroline, a smile on her face although Klaus noticed her eyes shifted slightly. “Please.”

                She gestured and internally, Klaus sighed. He hadn’t wanted to do this. He dropped his bag on the landing at the top of the stairs, turned to Caroline and drew her in for a kiss.

                She was startled, he could tell; this wasn’t the next move she was anticipating. He slanted his mouth over hers, swept his lips back and forth, deepening the kiss and running his tongue against her lips, making her sigh.

                As soon as she did so, he drew back, his hands on her shoulders. Her eyes opened, pupils dilated and he caught her gaze with his.

                “Caroline,” he murmured, engaging his compulsion. “Let me in.”

                Her blue-green eyes widened and she blinked, the dazed, thoroughly kissed desire in them cooling as the compulsion failed to take. Caroline let her eyes close, a pained expression on her face.

                “Caroline?” Klaus murmured, running a hand from her shoulder to cup her cheek. “Sweetheart?”

                “I’m on vervain,” she murmured lowly, her eyes still closed.

                Klaus’s heart stuttered.

                He blinked, withdrawing his hand from her cheek and taking a step back. He licked his lips nervously – a habit he never rid himself of in a thousand years – and then took another step back.

                _How did his beautiful, full of light Caroline know about vampires?_ He wondered.

                “Caroline,” he began, an edge to his voice, “How long have you known about vampires?”

                “A few months now,” she replied, opening her eyes. He couldn’t quite read what was going on behind them, something strange for someone like him. Maybe that was why he liked her – she kept him on his toes. “Since around September. After my birthday.”

                “Not when we were together,” he reaffirmed, frowning.

                “No,” she agreed, her eyes still unreadable. “I didn’t know then.”

                The two stood in silence on her landing. He could easily force her, push her into the wall and threaten her to let him in, could even snap her neck – but he didn’t.

                Instead, he watched silently as something flickered in her eyes – as she came to a decision. Her blank face changed, subtly at first. It was in her eyes, which went from shuttered to warm again; then, her lips stretched into a small smile.

                She stretched her hand out towards him, and he stared at it. The palm was face up, invitingly.

                “Nik,” she said, stressing his name and bringing his eyes to hers. “Please, would you like to come in?”

                The darkness that had begun to press into his chest at her knowledge and refusal receded and her bright smile, her light, drew him in. He met her small smile with one of his own.

                “I’d like that very much, sweetheart,” he murmured in reply, his hand reaching out and wrapping around hers.

                And then, she led him over the barrier to her apartment, a smile on her the entire time.

*

 TBC...


	5. V

*

Five:

 

**George Parker** : What happened? One minute, everything’s fine... What went wrong?

**David** : Nothing went wrong. People change.

**George Parker** : People change?

**David** : Yeah, people change.

**George Parker** : Can they change back?

**David** : I don’t know. I think it’s harder.

– _Pleasantville_ (1999)

*

_Somewhere in the backwoods of Virginia, around Mystic Falls_

                 Bonnie wasn’t sure why she agreed to join Damon, alone, in travelling to the location of the dead witches’ house, but she figured if she had to be around one vampire, it was better than two and there was no way she was that comfortable around Stefan _and_ Damon. Being near vampires set off her internal witchy senses, something Caroline amusedly called her ‘Spidey Sense.’ Vampires made her skin crawl; they were cool to the touch and had a sucking presence to them that made them stand out from others in a room. Bonnie couldn’t tell by sight who was a vampire, but their undead traits and their habits were obvious enough once you studied them long enough.

                (And as soon as she touched one, all she saw was death, and blackness. It gave her the heebie-jeebies.)

                Of course, while she found Damon to be morally skewed and dangerous, he gave off a different vibe to Stefan, whom she felt the “good guy” act was all that – an act. She didn’t trust Elena around him, but the girl was an adult and made her own decisions, so she wouldn’t interfere... yet.

                “Are we there yet?” called Bonnie, trailing behind the tall vampire, as they trudged through the dense underbrush off the freeway. Damon had text her GPS coordinates to a small hiking path off the interstate, which Bonnie dutifully followed on a rare afternoon off from operating her grandmother’s herbal shop. For the past half hour, though, she was following him off the trail and through heavy low-lying tree branches and spiky weeds.

                Damon grinned at her from over his shoulder, his leather jacket rubbing and squeaking as he did so. “Almost, Sabrina.”

                “Bonnie,” she muttered, crossing her arms tighter around her body and squeezing her jean jacket tighter. “My name is _Bonnie_.”

                “Yeah, yeah,” replied Damon, absently, and then pushed through the trees, revealing an empty lot and a dilapidated antebellum. What was once a beautiful turn-of-the-century Southern plantation was now little more than a ruinous mansion. Paint peeled in large chips from the walls, and several overhead beams were missing or collapsed. The front door remained, but many of the first floor windows were smashed out or bordered up.

                Bonnie was skeptical. “This is the location?”

                Damon sighed. “Bonnie – it’s not _the house_ that we’re going to; they didn’t _live_ there. The ground itself is sacred. This was the location where they were burned – the house wasn’t built until much later.”

                “Right,” replied Bonnie, glancing around at the tall, sweeping willow trees and the gnarled, bare branches from a few dead trees that were planted around the house. Some were split from heavy wind or lightning strikes, but overall, the area felt worn and wrecked.

                Slowly, the two approached the heavy front door, with Bonnie taking the lead by pushing it open. The door creaked as its heavy weight slowly eased open, and Bonnie suppressed a shiver. She and Damon cautiously stepped into the front foyer, but the few beams of sunlight from broken and rotted side panelling, as well as the crumbling second-floor landing and staircase had Bonnie questioning her judgment in gathering more power to an art she still hadn’t mastered.

Irrationally filled with sudden fear, she turned to Damon at her back and lowly asked, “You won’t leave me if something jumps out from the darkness, right?”

                Damon quirked a grin. “Relax, witchy. I think I’m the most dangerous thing in this house. There aren’t any ghosts.”

                The door behind them slammed shut, making both jump and turn in surprise.

                “You were saying?” queried Bonnie from the corner of her mouth as she began to glance around.

                Damon, now cautious and wary as well, began to do the same. “Well... I may be the Big Bad, but there’s always someone bigger and badder than me.”

                “Fantastic,” groaned Bonnie.

                Between her breathing and Damon’s soft shuffling, the two began to inch from the foyer to a side door, which Damon gestured she go through. She shot him a dark look in return, clearly asking, _are you high?_

                He rolled his eyes and made the same gesture, although violently now, indicating his annoyance. She barred her teeth at him in response.

                A soft breeze filtered through the entrance foyer, and Bonnie felt the hairs at the back of her neck stand to attention. Even Damon froze, his own supernatural sense on high alert. Coming across the breeze were soft whispers, echoes of voices and words Bonnie couldn’t make out, but knew were important.

                Almost unbidden, she began to follow the voices, through the very same doorway she was reluctant to travel through earlier.

                “Bonnie?” she heard Damon ask, his voice holding a cautionary tone, one that bordered on worry.

                She ignored him; she continued through the door, which after a small landing, led to a steep wooden staircase. She began the journey down, Damon silently following. At the bottom, another door, rotted and open, led to a small anteroom, filled with candles and left over furniture.

                As Bonnie and Damon stepped into the antechamber, Damon hissed; the sunlight filtering in from a broken window at ground level began to burn him, causing the vampire to speed towards a dark corner.

                Bonnie glanced at him. “Guess the witches don’t like vampires too much.”

                “Witches in general don’t like other supes,” responded Damon, watching as his hand healed. “They tend to keep to themselves, but tell them to keep in mind I promised to protect the Bennett line since your ancestor Emily, and have done so dutifully. That should score me some points.”

                Bonnie quirked an eyebrow in response. “Maybe. Maybe not.”

                She began walking around the room, getting a feel for it, as the whispers grew louder. Their individual voices were still indistinguishable but there was enough that Bonnie had an idea of what to do. She stopped in the middle of the room, tilted her head to the side as though listening to instructions, and then spread her arms wide on either side of her body.

                “Bonnie?”

                Damon had taken a step forward, but immediately drew back as Bonnie tilted her head back and opened her mouth – a gut-wrenching noise erupted from her, and the pupils of her eyes disappeared, leaving all white.

                Bonnie began moaning, her body shuddering as something invisible coursed through her entire being, from top to bottom. Her hands clenched into fists, her nails digging into the palm of her hands and cutting the skin, dripping blood onto the floor.

                “Bonnie!” Damon shouted. “Enough! It’s enough!”

                The witch in question couldn’t stop, and her tremors began shaking her entire body, her moans turning into a high-pitched scream that suddenly cut off as she dropped to the floor.

                “Bonnie?!” shouted Damon, racing forward and crouching next to her, suddenly able to be in the daylight again without his ring being rendered powerless.

                He touched her shoulder gently, and a hand fluttered to her neck to check her pulse. The young woman lightly moaned, but did not stir.

                “I’m going to be in _so_ much trouble,” muttered Damon darkly, scooping her into his arms and then using his vampire speed to leave the building. He did not stop until he was at their cars, and without thinking, he placed Bonnie in the backseat of his blue Mustang and drove to the boarding house.

                “I hope that was worth it, little witch,” murmured Damon as he glanced at Bonnie’s still form through the rear-view mirror. “Having that power might help get rid of me from this town, but power always comes at a price.”

*

                The first night that Klaus spent at Caroline’s was tense, but not tense because of her knowledge of him being a vampire – but rather because the two were discovering a new dimension of their relationship and they were unsure of their footing.

                Caroline had led him, by hand and never letting go, into her kitchen and gently setting him at her kitchen table. She then crossed to her cabinets at the sloped ceiling, reaching on her toes and stretching her hand up for a bottle of something above the cabinet. Klaus eyed the flesh of skin revealed between her shirt and jeans.

                With the bottle in one hand, Caroline snatched two smaller glasses from the countertop and settled across from Klaus at her kitchen table. Silently, she uncorked the bottle, poured a generous splash of the amber liquid into the two glasses, and pushed one towards him.

                He watched as she swirled the liquid around and then downed it like a shooter, her face instantly flushing.

                He stifled a smile behind his glass as he raised it to his lips and took a sip. _Scotch_ , he thought, surprised. _And a good vintage._

                “Alright, sweetheart?” he asked, taking in her flushed cheeks and area around her collarbone.

                “Fine,” squeaked Caroline, coughing slightly. “It’s been a while since I had some of this, that’s all.”

                She shifted in her seat, her eyes rising to his, as she continued speaking. “So. Vampire, huh?”

                “Yes,” responded Klaus.

                “When you were telling me about the Moulin Rouge,” began Caroline, a distant look in her eyes as they travelled over his shoulder to an event in their past, “You were telling the truth. You were there at the turn of the century.”

                “Yes,” repeated Klaus, slowly and taking another sip.

                “You’re over a century old?”

“Physically, I’m twenty-five,” supplied the Original cautiously. “That’s how old I was when...” he cleared his throat. “Anyway, I’ve been a vampire much longer than that.”

“How long is _long_?” asked Caroline, settling forward and resting her chin on a propped up hand, as she began to feel more comfortable with the topic.

“Old,” chuckled Klaus. “How about you, sweetheart? What happened that had you learning about vampires?”

Suddenly, Caroline’s face changed; instantly, it was as though a wall appeared between the two. Klaus recognised it: the wall was her means of hiding something painful that happened to her.

“Caroline?” asked Klaus lowly, eyes narrowed as she refused to answer.

“I met a vampire, only I didn’t know he was one,” she finally offered, slowly and stiltedly, determined to select the correct words. She shifted uneasily in her seat. “Next question, please.”

“We _will_ revisit this, sweetheart,” admonished Klaus quietly, eyes catching hers and holding them to demonstrate his seriousness.

Caroline, in response, poured some more scotch into her glass.

The two settled into silence. Being at the edge of town, no cars passed outside of Caroline’s apartment and the cemetery across the road ensured there were few animals to generate noise. The silence, however, was not tense or stifling; it was comfortable as the two learned to reacclimatise.

“What is it that Katherine stole from you?” asked Caroline finally.

Klaus looked up from his drink, wondering if he should answer. Having Caroline’s help – a second set of uncompelled eyes, as it were – would be a boon. As well, Katarina knew that she was important to him now, and knowledge of how to handle the Petrova would be beneficial for Caroline’s sake.

“A Moonstone,” he finally said, glancing at the human in front of him. “It was in my possession when we met in England. She stole it from me, and ran. That’s when she transitioned into a vampire, as well.”

“And it’s important to you?” asked Caroline, frowning thoughtfully.

“It’s part of a ritual that I wish to complete,” admitted Klaus, careful with what information he gave the blonde.

Caroline’s eyes widened. “Ritual?”

“I’m not just a vampire, sweetheart,” murmured Klaus, eyes catching hers. Caroline stilled, mesmerized by the emergence of the man she knew in Paris, who captured her attention. “I was a werewolf as well. But a curse was placed on me, stopping me from transforming. The ritual – and the Moonstone – would break the curse so I could be both.”

Caroline huffed, frowning thoughtfully. “Why was the curse cast on you?”

Klaus resisted shifting awkwardly on the bench. “It’s... a story for another time.”

“Fair enough.”

Klaus reached forward and added more of the scotch to Caroline’s glass, then his. He saluted her, and then drank his.

Caroline smiled. “One good thing about being a vampire then: no worries about liver failure.”

Klaus laughed. “No, just worries about the sun and being staked.”

“But we were out during the day,” commented Caroline, interest in her eyes as she spoke. “How does that work?”  
                “Some stereotypes and myths are true, but for certain special vampires,” and with the way he smirked, Caroline could tell her was referring to himself, “We’re not challenged by sunlight or stakes like the common vampire.”

“Get out!” grinned Caroline. “So – garlic?”

“Myth. I quite enjoy it.”

“Holy water?”

“Water is water.”

“Coffins?”

“I don’t sleep in one, if that’s what you’re asking,” finished Klaus with a waggle of his eyebrows, causing Caroline to let out peals of laughter.

Slowly, as the night progressed, the two of them continued to drink and share stories, staying away from the topic of the Moonstone, the ritual and curse, and the first vampire Caroline came across. Both knew that eventually, they would need to discuss those items, but for now, it was about Caroline and Klaus reconnecting.

As Caroline stumbled from the bench, her legs tangling in each other and a buzz coursing through her body from the scotch, she caught Klaus’s eyes as well as his half-crouched position to help her if she face-planted.

“S’long you gonna stay?” she slurred, blinking beadily at him through drunken eyes. “Y’said only fer a few days.”

Klaus rose from his end of the table, not even anywhere near drunk or tipsy, and approached Caroline with a smile and spread arms. “I’ll stay however long you’ll have me.”

“Well,” began drunk-Caroline. “I s’pect that’ll be ferever then.”

Klaus couldn’t help the grin that spread across his face at Caroline’s words – drunk or not, that was how she felt. “Then you’ll have me forever,” he replied, gently scooping her back into his arms, moving towards her curving staircase to put her to bed.

_Maybe it won’t be too difficult to convince her, after all,_ he thought, triumphantly.

*

                Unlike her two friends, Elena spent the day following the dance in bed instead of roaming the Virginian forests or entertaining a long-distance friend. Her night ended with Stefan dropping her off at her house, while Damon had disappeared early on in the night, as had Caroline; Bonnie ended up going home shortly before Elena left as she was working with Professor Shane the next morning.

                The night was somewhat romantic. She and Stefan were talking, sharing interests, likes, and dislikes, and laughing at silly jokes. She hadn’t got along with another person like Stefan in ages – Matt had only seemed to want to maintain the status quo and it ended up with them breaking up because of it; Stefan was different, worldly, and dangerous. Elena liked it.

                 So, her day was spent loafing about, thinking about Stefan and daydreaming in bed about how, while Jenna and Alaric got their day started and both disappeared to work at different times. Left alone, Elena made a slow start to her day, taking a leisurely shower, pampering herself by painting her toenails a vivid blue and wriggling them, by watching numerous soap operas, and eating straight from the cereal box.

                That was how Stefan found her mid-afternoon, arriving at her front door and ringing the doorbell constantly to display his urgency.

                “Stefan?” asked Elena when she opened it. “What’s going on?”

                “You need to come with me now,” he said, ignoring her sweat pants and tight sports bra that doubled as her top for the day.

                “What?”

                Stefan gently reached forward and tugged her towards him, onto the front porch. Elena stumbled and turned back quickly to grab a pair of sneakers to stuff her feet into, quickly.

                “Bonnie and Damon went this morning to the location of the witches’ death,” explained Stefan in clipped tones as Elena followed behind him. “They were there a few hours ago but Damon just returned with Bonnie. She’s unconscious and at the boarding house.”

                Elena’s eyes widened. “Okay, just let me grab my car keys. We’ll take that instead of you running around in broad daylight.”

                “Right.”

                Elena dashed back inside, grabbed her keys and jotted a quick note to Jenna and Alaric that she was at Stefan’s with Bonnie for a brief catch-up. She knew it wouldn’t pass Alaric’s standards, and that he would question her later about what was going on, but for now it would suffice.

                As she drove, Elena peppered Stefan with questions, none of which he could answer. By the time they arrived, a mere ten minutes later, Elena was a bundle of nerves and practically raced through the front doors to find the living room and Bonnie lay out across one of the couches. Damon stood across from her, nursing a tumbler of some dark liquid.

                “What did you do?” Elena cried, rushing to her friend’s side.

                “Me?” asked Damon, insulted. “Why did you assume it was _me_? I did nothing but watch as your witchy friend did some seriously weird Hogwarts bullshit!”

                Elena ignored him and pressed a shaky hand to Bonnie’s forehead, brushing back some hair and feeling her cool, clammy skin. “How long has she been like this?”

                “About an hour, since collapsing to arriving here and getting you,” responded Stefan from the other side of the room, hovering just out of reach but close enough to be part of the conversation. “She hasn’t stirred or anything either.”

                Elena sat back on her heels, on the floor and pressed the heels of her palm to her eyes, exhaling loudly. “Now what?”

                “We can sit and wait until Bonnie wakes up,” replied Stefan quietly.

                Elena sighed, her shoulders slumping forward, her body curling as she leaned forward closer to Bonnie’s prone body.

_Things had been so simple before the Salvatore brothers showed up in Mystic Falls_ , thought Elena sourly, despite her conscious attraction to them both. Bonnie was refining her witch skills with her Grams and Professor Shane; Elena was blissfully happy maintaining the status quo amongst her family by happily plodding along doing the same old, same old; even Caroline had gone on to travel and move past Mystic Falls, only to return and be sucked into its supernatural black hole.

And speaking of, the girls had a training session with Alaric later that they would now have to miss. “I need to call Caroline,” muttered Elena, finally rising to her feet and staring challengingly at both Damon and Stefan, especially when Damon made to argue. “No, stop – we were supposed to all meet up later and she’ll need to know that it won’t be happening now.”

“You can use my room for some privacy,” offered Stefan, although it was truly a silly and futile offer, as everyone in the room knew that with their superior hearing, Stefan and Damon would hear everything from Elena’s end anyway, no matter where she was in the house.

Graciously accepting under the guise of privacy, though, Stefan led Elena up the tiered staircase and to the front of the house’s large master, which Stefan had appropriated over the years visiting the Boarding House. With a side and front view of the grounds, Stefan would always know who was coming to visit.

“We’ll watch over Bonnie,” offered Stefan, shutting his bedroom door behind him as he left Elena alone in the messy and over-stuffed room.

Elena sighed, fishing her phone from her sweats pocket and thumbed through her contacts until she reached Caroline’s name. The phone rang several times, and with each pass, Elena became more and more nervous by Caroline’s lack of response. She had not spoken or seen her since the dance two nights ago, and although she was not close to Caroline, after what the girl had gone through with Damon made Elena worry.

Finally, the phone _clicked_ and a very sleepy, groggy voice mumbled, “’ello?”

“Caroline?” asked Elena, confirming the sleepy feminine voice was that of her friends, whom she hadn’t heard like that ever.

“Oh, ‘lena,” the voice continued. A rustle of sheets in the background implied Caroline was still in bed. Incredulously, Elena glanced around the dusty and dark room, her eyes falling on an old wind-up bedside clock, which read nearly three in the afternoon.

_What the hell? Caroline’s a morning person!_ thought Elena, her eyebrows quirked. “Caroline, are you alright?”

“Mmm, yeah, fine,” the woman replied, yawning at the end. “Just getting up now.”

“ _Now_?” echoed Elena, blinking in surprise.

“Yeah,” continued Caroline, with more rustling in the background. “’Member? My friend was dropping by. We stayed up late last night talking.”

“Oh,” replied Elena softly. “Well, I’m sorry for waking you up, then, but we have a problem.”

“What’s wrong?”

Elena began moving around the room, restlessly, and was drawn towards Stefan’s large desk, which was littered with open books, and piled, closed books, as well as several uncapped pens and even an old inkwell.

“Bonnie went to the house today to do the spell, with Damon,” began Elena, carefully shifting through the closed, piled books to view their titles. Many were untitled, handwritten journals of Stefan’s Elena had no wish to read. “Damon said she overtaxed herself and she’s unconscious now.”

“Where?” asked Caroline, sounding more awake, and breathing slightly heaving as she began walking.

“We’re at the Salvatore’s,” answered Elena.

There was an intake of air on Caroline’s end, and some more shifting. Elena’s eyes narrowed as she realised the friend was likely still at Caroline’s apartment.

“Sorry, I know I interrupted you and your friend,” she began slowly. “But it’s Bonnie. And we were supposed to meet with Alaric tonight. It’s just all this vampire business, and now another vampire in town...”

“Oh, her,” replied Caroline. “Damon and I met her the night of the dance. He knows her, so you can ask him about Katherine.”

“Katherine?”

“Yeah,” continued Caroline, and the clanking and running water in the background had Elena guessing she was making tea. “She and Damon totally have a history. Spoke about Stefan too, she did. And she’s a right bitch – I wouldn’t trust her at any point in time if I see her again.”

Elena hummed, her hand moving across the desk to shift some loose papers away, revealing a square, gold-plated and etched designed case with a clasp. Elena began to pick at the clasp, trying to pop it open absently, something to fiddle with.

“I’ll ask when I go back downstairs,” she said.

“Where are you now?”

“I’m in Stefan’s room,” she answered, and ignored the disagreeing noise Caroline made. “Stop that.”

A huff on Caroline’s end made Elena roll her eyes. “Fine. Look, I’ll text you later about rescheduling with Alaric. Are you going to come by later to see Bonnie or not?”

“I’ll swing by later, but only for a little bit,” replied Caroline carefully.

“Oh,” said Elena, again reminded that Caroline had company. “Yeah, we don’t want your company getting suspicious about what’s going on it town.”

Caroline chuckled on the other end of the line, huskily as she cleared her throat. “Yeah, we don’t want to tip our hand that there’s something wrong with this town and how it’s overrun with vampires. Besides, I think he has other plans of his own, so he won’t always be around Mystic Falls.”

“Okay,” replied Elena, trusting Caroline’s judgment. “Send me a message when you’re on your way.”

“Sure. Bye,” the woman replied, hanging up.

Elena snapped her phone shut, sliding it back into her pocket just as the clasp on the gold case popped open. Eager to reward herself by opening it up, she was surprised to find a faded, sepia-toned photograph inside, as it was a photograph stand. Unfortunately, Elena’s flush of pride in her opening the case soon evaporated as her eyes focused on the figure in the photograph.

The girls’ dark hair – black or brown, Elena couldn’t tell – was elaborately coiled into small curls and artfully half-piled atop the girl’s head. She wore period clothing, a dress with a high lace-covered neck with a sweetheart neckline in a different fabric. The dress’s neck accentuated the locket she wore – the same locket Stefan gave Elena.

But what startled Elena the most was the coy, cunning look the girl wore, as her dark eyes stared out at the photographer... and the fact that she was a splitting image of Elena.

Underneath the oval photograph lay cursive script, which read: _Katherine Pierce, 1864._

_Katherine Pierce, the other vampire in town. Who knows Stefan and Damon, who attacked Damon and Caroline the night of the dance... whom Damon wanted to save from the tomb under the church,_ Elena thought furiously, snapping the photograph case closed. Her anger began to grow as pieces began to fall into place.

_Damon, who had Bonnie still go to the witch’s burial site and obtain their power to open a tomb he no longer needed because he knew Katherine wasn’t in it. What game is he playing now?_ She thought, turning to the bedroom door and beginning to walk towards it.

Something was going on between Stefan, Damon, and Katherine and Elena wanted to know what it was.

She threw open the bedroom door and pounded down the stairs, entering the living area red-faced and chest heaving in her anger, which only grew with each step she took. Damon had moved from the sideboard to sit on a couch while Stefan hovered near Bonnie. Both, however, looked up as she approached.

Before either could speak, Elena ground out, “What the fuck is going on? Who the hell is Katherine Pierce, why does she look exactly like me? Why do you have her photograph, Stefan and why did you give me the locket she used to wear? And what the fuck were you playing at, Damon – making Bonnie go through that with the witches when you knew Katherine wasn’t in the tomb?”

Stefan’s jaw dropped open, as each accusation flew fast and furiously straight from Elena’s mouth to both Stefan and Damon, each word more damning than the last. Damon remained lounging on the couch, as Elena’s eyes finished her rant on Stefan, demanding answers from him first.

“Uhh,” began Damon’s younger brother elegantly, eyes darting left and right as he began to gather his thoughts.

“Best answer fast, Stefan, and it better be good,” retorted Elena, fisting her hands by her side. While she knew she couldn’t beat a vampire in a fight, she wasn’t afraid of fighting dirty, no matter how attracted she was to either brother.

When Stefan failed to reply, Damon happily spoke up. “Katherine Pierce was a guest of our family in 1864. She then played the two of us against each other and like fools, making us both fall in love with her while plying us with her blood in case anything happened. Of course, Katherine is a vindictive, cruel _bitch_ who manipulated us and left us to die. Instead, we transitioned into vampires.”

“That doesn’t explain why she looks like me, or why you made Bonnie go through with everything,” snapped Elena, her eyes on Damon.

Damon shrugged. “Bonnie still needed the extra power for the other vampires in the tomb. Mystic Falls has that lovely Council – you know the one that fights all vampires in town, right? Well, instead of just entombing them where they are desiccating, why not actually get rid of them? Or find a way to stuff Katherine inside so we don’t have to worry about her anymore? Bonnie still needed that power to manage that.”

“Does she know that?” answered Elena tartly.   
                “Well, I was going to suggest it to her before she lost consciousness, but I don’t think she can hear me now,” retorted Damon with an eye roll.

“ _Ugh_ ,” Elena groaned, turning to Stefan, her hands on her hips as she effectively dismissed Damon. “And you?”

“Katherine had the locket filled with vervain. She used it as a daily reminder of how to fight the effects of vervain,” began Stefan carefully, sensing Elena’s patience was running thin. “I have her photograph because I...” he squirmed in his seat. “I used to love her.”

Damon snorted.

Elena frowned. Both were still not answering some of her questions. “Why do we look alike? Is this some weird genetic thing?”

Stefan’s face lit up, like he was ready to use that as an excuse, while Damon rolled his eyes. Before Stefan could say anything, Damon’s eyes had slid to his brother and gleefully answered Elena. “It’s because you’re a Doppelganger.”

Elena blinked. “A what?”

“ _Dopp-el-gang-er_ ,” Damon said again, with relish as he over-enunciated the syllables. “It means you’re a physical copy of someone else, like a twin, but from a different set of parents, or even different time, in this case.”

“What’s so special about a doppelganger?” asked Elena, frowning and moving slowly to sit near Bonnie, who was still lying unconscious on the couch as she began to focus her questions to Damon, the only one who was answering her. “And why me?”

“You’re probably related to Katherine somewhere in your family tree, so that’s why you look alike,” continued Damon with a shrug. “But as to its importance, I don’t know. I’ve never run into another Doppelganger before, but with all the research I’ve done into Katherine over the years, I know enough about the supernatural world to know about _her_.”

“Are they supernatural?” asked Elena curiously, folding her hands in her lap as she sat still.

Damon shrugged again.

Stefan made a strange noise in the back of his throat, causing their eyes to fly towards him. “In a sense.”

At Elena’s look, he slowly elaborated. “Lexi,” here, he shot a dark look at Damon, “Used to say that there were stranger things in our world than we knew of, beyond vampires.”

“Like Doppelgangers,” inserted Damon. He glanced at Bonnie. “Witches.”

“Or werewolves,” quietly said Elena, causing both Salvatores to look at her in surprise.

“What? Werewolves exist?” asked Damon in surprise, sitting up from his lounging position against the couch to peer intently at Elena.

She looked surprised now, blinking and licking her lips nervously. “You didn’t know? You’re _vampires_. It seems strange to believe that you exist but other supernatural creatures in literature and pop culture don’t exist.”

“Huh,” replied Damon, slowly sitting back as Stefan shifted uneasily.

“Anyway,” he continued slowly, glancing between Elena and Damon warily, “Lexi said that there was something that acted like a beacon for supernaturals. Some type of binding agent that worked to bring supernatural creatures together, or something similar to that.”

“And you think that’s what a Doppelganger does?” asked Elena with a frown, leaning forward to place an elbow on her knee and to use her hand to prop her chin up. “Then there should be more of us out there. Not just me.”

“It’s likely there are more, and that’ you’re considered magical, but that they’re rare,” supplied Stefan.

“Then excuse me if I don’t find it fishy that all of a sudden there is a convergence of vampires in Mystic Falls,” called a feminine voice, echoing through the large family room as Caroline stepped through the open doorway and moved directly to Elena and Bonnie.

“When did Blondie get here?” asked Damon, and to which no one answered.

“Thanks for coming,” said Elena quietly, aware that both Salvatores could hear her.

“No problem,” replied Caroline, her green eyes glancing from Stefan to Damon warily as she stopped beside Bonnie’s form. She knelt on the floor and grabbed Bonnie’s hand to hold. “Sounds like you guys were getting to the interesting, theoretical part. Don’t let my arrival stop you from continuing such a _riveting_ discussion.”

Stefan cleared his throat. “That’s all I know about Doppelgangers.”

“I’m sure we could Google some more,” replied Caroline loftily.

“What, Blondie? You think someone’s compiled a website pull of data about supernatural creatures and all we need to do is search ‘doppelganger’ and we’ll get all the answers?” sneered Damon.

Caroline lifted her eyebrows. “I don’t think we’ll find all the information, but we’ll find a good place to start looking, don’t you think? Most texts are scanned and uploaded to museum servers and online archives, so we can access those online to see if there are any associated words to ancient texts.”

Damon blinked. “That’s... actually a good point, Blondie.”

Caroline gave him a look. “I’m more than just a blonde-haired bimbo, Salvatore. After all, people only see what they want to see.”

Damon hummed but didn’t speak, leaving Elena to fill the gap.

“That still doesn’t answer why me, Stefan,” said the brunette, facing the younger Salvatore. “You used to love Katherine, you will have her photograph; I look just like her and you pursued a relationship with me. Is that why you saved me that night? Because, excuse me if that doesn’t come across as weird.”

Stefan sighed. “When your car when into the water at Wickery Bridge”—Caroline stiffened at the knowledge and turned to Elena, who shook her head—“I didn’t know that you looked exactly like Katherine. It wasn’t until I saw and your father wanted you saved that I realised. And once you were out of the water, I realised I couldn’t leave Mystic Falls until I realised if you were _like_ Katherine or not.”

Elena stared. “You... stayed in Mystic Falls... practically stalked me... to see if I was a manipulative vampiric bitch?”

Stefan winced. “It did sound better in my head than out loud, I admit.”

Damon laughed. “You think?”

Elena was thunderstruck; her eyes were wide and she was pale. Caroline reached forward from her spot beside Bonnie on the floor to touch Elena’s knee gently. Elena looked at her friend, saw her concern, and mumbled, “I—I really need to – to think about this...”

“Elena...” murmured Stefan, ready to step forward as he reached out with a hand.

“No,” she said, standing from the couch, raising her voice just as Bonnie groaned and mumbled something under her breath. Her eyes cut to her witch friend. “I need time to think this over, and Caroline and I need to get Bonnie home.”

Damon nodded genially from his spot, eyes roving constantly from the three human girls to his brother in a suspicious, curious move. “You know where we are, Elena,” he said, just as Bonnie muttered, “What happened?”

“What do you remember, Bon?” asked Caroline softly.

                “The witches,” she muttered, bringing a hand up to her forehead to press down, just as she began to sit up slowly. Elena and Caroline helped her, easing into a sitting position on the couch. “So much power... they were so angry... at _everything_.”

                “Are you okay, then?” murmured Elena.

“I... I think so,” replied Bonnie. “But I can feel it. It’s like this... this itch under my skin... like a static shock but it’s not going away. I can feel the power, like knowing a word on the tip of your tongue but not saying it.”

Caroline frowned. “You’re going to need a _lot_ of practice to channel that properly.”

Bonnie nodded, but it was obvious she wasn’t listening as she stared at her hands and slowly flipped them from looking at the back to her palms, flexing her fingers into a fist.

Elena and Caroline shared a look, moving to help Bonnie stand and then begin moving her to the front entrance way and Caroline’s car. “Let’s get you home so you can rest, okay?” Elena was saying, as Caroline fretted on her other side: “Lots of tea and chicken noodle and _Downton Abbey_!”

“Sounds good,” laughed Bonnie weakly, resting on her friends as they shuffled away from the two Salvatores, who made no move to stop them.

Once in Caroline’s car, with Bonnie and Elena in the backseat, Elena tentatively said, “Stefan never answered me.”

Caroline hummed her agreement. “I heard.” Her eyes met Elena’s through the rear-view mirror. She shifted and slowly began, “I, ah... I should mention that before I moved out, on the night of Lexi’s death...”

Elena looked from Bonnie to Caroline, who was gripping the steering wheel tightly. “What?”

“Damon came by my mom’s,” she said quietly. “The night he asked me to help chaperone the dance? He said he didn’t trust Stefan’s arrival in Mystic Falls. That there was something... _off_ about him that Damon hadn’t seen before, and that he didn’t recognise.”

“Are you saying that Damon doesn’t trust Stefan?” asked Bonnie with a frown.

“Well, I suppose,” hedged Caroline. “But that does go both ways. They seem to have a history with each other where they either have each others’ backs, or they hate each other’s guts.”

The girls shared smiles at the comment.

“But you think it has something to do with me?” asked Elena, and Caroline sighed. _Of course, everything came back to Elena_.

“I think there’s more to the story than we know, and I think we should look into things,” replied Caroline carefully. “Like, the Council. How did they learn about vampires to begin with? What threat did they see in them and werewolves? What really happened that night when they trapped the twenty-six vampires in the tomb? Who’s on the Council now?”

Elena made a noise. “But what does that have to do with Stefan? And me? And the Doppelganger and Katherine?”

“I think a lot more than we know,” said Bonnie, blinking as Elena turned to her, a wounded expression on her face. “Look, I know you like Stefan, but there’s something off about him. And Damon, too.”

“But he’s always been nice to me,” argued Elena, as Caroline slowed to a halt in front of Bonnie’s house.

“A lot of people are nice before they hurt you,” said Caroline quietly, clearly thinking about her time with Damon, causing Bonnie and Elena to look shame-faced. “Look, Elena,” she sighed and turned in the driver’s seat to face her friends in the back, “It’s not really about you in this sense – I think there’s something bigger going on and we’re in the middle of it now.” A strange look came over her, as if Caroline was thinking of something else. “I just think we’re not being told the whole story from _anyone_ and that we need to know more before we make any decisions.”

Bonnie unclipped her seatbelt and nodded. “As nice as you think Stefan is, ‘Lena, it’s clear you have the hots for him. And that impairs your judgment.”

“And your hating vampires impairs _yours_ ,” argued Elena back hotly.

“So then we all need to be as impartial as we can, understanding that we have different perspectives and add those together to learn the truth,” replied Caroline with an even tone, being peacekeeper. “So, Bonnie, get some rest and Elena, start going through your parents’ journals. Ask Jeremy things. There _has_ to be something we’re missing.”

“Fine,” replied Bonnie easily, unlatching the door, and stepping out. “I’ll call you guys later. Night.”

Elena got out as well, realising Caroline wanted her gone because she had transcended into ‘planner mode’ and she was close enough to the town centre to meet with Matt at the Grill, so catch Jenna on her way back from Whitmore.

“I’ll try to keep my thoughts impersonal,” promised Elena gruffly, as she got out. Caroline rolled down the window to speak to her, as Elena stood on the sidewalk.

“Good,” the blonde said, “Because I think we’re about to step into a shitstorm of epic proportions, Elena, and as good-looking as Stefan or Damon are, you need to think about yourself first.”

Elena’s disgruntled features softened. Caroline was just looking out for her. “I understand, Care. Thanks for coming over and telling me this. I guess I needed it.”

“That’s what I’m here for,” replied Caroline with a grin. “And look – while _I_ don’t trust Damon and Stefan – for obvious reasons – they _are_ both different with you. I just wouldn’t trust them blindly without more knowledge. There definitely is something strange going on with Mystic Falls in general, and I think we should know more about the supernatural world before we get further pulled in.” She glanced away. “I don’t know about you, Elena, but I feel like we’re on the cusp of something big happening.”

Elena nodded. “Me too.”

Caroline gave a wide-grin and waved as the window slid up and she pulled away, leaving Elena standing outside Bonnie’s house (although she had already gone grumpily inside, complaining of a headache and needing sleep).

Elena took a deep breath, held it a moment, then let it out. She turned and began walking towards town and then the river, towards the cemetery. She needed some time to think, to suss things out between her feelings and Stefan, even her feelings about Damon (which is never tried to acknowledge), and things she had learned.

Caroline was right: something was coming. And Elena needed to get her head – and heart – out of her ass long enough to prepare for whatever was coming, and soon. She shivered, rubbing her hands up and down her arms. Katherine Pierce was up to something, and Elena was determined to learn _what_.

  
**  
TBC...  
**


	6. VI

*

Six:

“Suspecting and knowing are not the same.”

― Percy Jackson & the Lightning Thief

*

_Miss Mystic Falls/Founder’s Day Gala at the Lockwood Mansion, mid-December_

                 As usual, when it came to Mystic Falls’ events, Caroline had outdone herself. The Miss Mystic Falls and September festival – for the start of the school year – had been one of Caroline’s crowning achievements. Unfortunately, it was tainted by the fact that Bonnie and Elena had discovered she 1) knew nothing about the supernatural and 2) Damon had been using her as a personal blood bag and goodness knows what else (Elena didn’t like to think about it; but she was _aware_ of it).

                 Despite that, the Founder’s Day celebrations were the highlight of December as 2013 came to close. Not only had Caroline organized the float parade down Main Street for the current Miss Mystic Falls, but also she had organized the Gala at the Lockwood Mansion following the Miss Mystic Falls float, and all the activities in between the parade and Gala for those who had not been invited to the Lockwood’s that evening. Additionally, she planned the Founder’s Ball on New Year’s Eve and the fireworks at the end of the New Years Eve celebration. Elena was, quite honestly, in awe.

                However, as much as she was in awe and gushing about Caroline’s skills, she was avoiding her best friends. Why? Because despite their last conversation _(“_ _There definitely is something strange going on with Mystic Falls in general, and I think we should know more about the supernatural world before we get further pulled in.”_ ), she had been talking to Stefan, and well, he was her date that evening as well as officially her boyfriend.

                Of course, based on her last conversation with Caroline and Bonnie – both of whom she hadn’t seen in a while due to their work commitments, Caroline’s out of town guest, and Bonnie’s extra lessons with her Grams about her magical power increase – Elena wasn’t taking too many risks or chances. She genuinely _liked_ Stefan – he was nice, comfortable, kind, and helpful – but even she could admit that there was a part of her dating Stefan for information. He _had_ tried to lie about Katherine, tried to avoid talking about Doppelgangers when Elena effectively gave him an out, and he had stayed in Mystic Falls to see if she had a similar personality to Katherine instead of wanting to get to know her. Strangely, Damon was the brother who told the truth, who answered her every question. And wasn’t that the crux of her problem?

                One brother told the truth, the other lied; one brother was devilishly dastardly in his approach to humanity while the other was all-vegan and pro-life; one brother wanted to wrap her in wool and shelter her, while the other made her see the supernatural world as it was with eyes wide open.

                And yet, she was dating the _safe_ one.

                How in the world had it gotten to that?

                So, as far as Elena was concerned, even if she was using Stefan to pump some information out of him, it wasn’t as if he hadn’t tried to hide things from her, either. Mutually beneficial using of one another, while attempting an actual relationship.

                Elena was sure it was already doomed from the start, but hey – it was going to be fun while it lasted (or so she told herself). She just wasn’t ready for Caroline or Bonnie’s reprimanding looks.

                So there she was, at home, ignoring her Aunt’s knowing looks as she prettied herself up in her shared bathroom with Jeremy, who was whining loudly enough from downstairs about how Carol Lockwood wanted bits and pieces of their parents’ personal artifacts to hold at the auction at the Gala.

                Jeremy stomped up the stairs, going into his bedroom and flopping heavily down onto his bed sideways. Then, he noticed Elena through the open door to the bathroom. He watched her as she delicately lined her eyelids with black eyeliner, cap the pencil, and then reach for the mascara. Her eyes went wide, as did her mouth, and Jeremy had to speak.

                “Why is it that when you put on mascara, your mouth opens?” he asked, sitting up.

                “Keeps the face slack,” replied Elena oddly, speaking through her open mouth and rolling the words around her tongue instead to try to pronounce them. “Easier to apply.”

                Elena finished, capping the wand back into the tube, and turned to her brother. “What were you complaining about earlier?”

                “Aunt Jenna said Carol Lockwood came by earlier and wants pieces of mom and dad’s stuff for the auction. Said mom promised her some pieces before...” he trailed off, losing steam in his anger.

                Elena nodded. “Do we know if there was anything put specifically aside?”

                Jeremy shook his head. “No. And Aunt Jenna just got a bunch of stuff from the boxes in the attic and was going to give her them!”

                “Like what?” asked Elena, frowning. She crossed her arms and cocked her hip against the bathroom counter.

                Jeremy lay back down on the bed, this time facing the ceiling and began listing some of the items off monotonously. “Carol wants Mom’s antique Cartier chandelier earrings from Great-Grandma in France, an old dagger of granddad’s, and dad’s pocket watch.”

                Elena stood straight at the last item. “She can’t have the pocket watch.”

                Jeremy turned his head to his sister. “Why not?”

                “You’ve read dad’s journals, right? That was our ancestor’s pocket watch. They use it to suss out vampires when all the pieces are together,” explained Elena, moving to the frame of the open door, hovering at the edge of Jeremy’s room. “It hasn’t worked since dad was younger, because something is missing from it, but when it is all put together, it hunts vampires.”

                “Normally I wouldn’t really care,” sighed Jeremy, “But given that Anna is one...”

                “And Stefan and Damon,” agreed Elena quietly. “But why would Carol Lockwood want it?”

                Jeremy shrugged, facing the ceiling again, but this time reaching for his side table where his large Bose earphones lay. “Dunno. Maybe _she_ doesn’t want it in particular. Remember? It’s for the auction. Maybe she knows someone wants to bid on it because _they_ want it.”

                “But the only people who would even know what it can do, would be Council members, since mom and dad were on it,” argued Elena. She then blinked as the realization washed over her, causing a flush to heat her suddenly cold body.

                “What?” asked Jeremy, in the midst of putting his earphones on.

                “The Council _knows_ ,” she breathed out, frozen in place.

                Jeremy took in his sister’s wide eyes and, feeling dread come over him, hesitantly asked, “Who knows what?”

                “The Council knows there are vampires in Mystic Falls,” replied Elena, backing up towards her room. “And they want to find them.”

                “To do what?” asked Jeremy, finally sitting up fully and ignoring the headphones around his neck.

                Elena’s wide brown eyes met Jeremy’s. “Kill them, of course.”

                She dashed into her room, heaving Jeremy staring bewilderedly behind her, and dove for her phone that was charging on her bed. She swiped to unlock it, and went straight to her contacts, beginning a call with Bonnie and then immediately three-way calling Caroline, too.

                “What’s up, El?” asked Bonnie as she answered on the third ring. Caroline quickly answered after her, opening with, “This better be important because I have a catering company that messed with the vegan order and I don’t want every freaking Fell breathing down my neck because some idiot forgot to add avocados.”

                “The Council knows that there are vampires in town,” blurted out Elena.

                “I’m sorry?” asked Bonnie after a moment of silence.

                “Carol Lockwood came by the house a few hours wanting some old pieces of my parents for the auction tonight, but was pretty specific on what they were going to give over,” explained Elena hurriedly, wanting to get all the information out as soon as possible. “One of them is my dad’s old pocket watch. It’s the same watch that our ancestor used to find the vampires during the Battle of Willow Creek.”

                “She asked for them specifically?” asked Caroline, and Elena could hear the wheels turning in her mind from over the phone.

                “Yes.”

                “Hmm...”

                “Logan Fell was turned into a vampire by someone other than Stefan and Damon,” inputted Bonnie, with a sigh. “As much as I don’t _like_ either of them, they were telling the truth about that. And Ric’s been following Damon, hasn’t he? We’ve seen them at the Grill a few times, drinking. He’d know if Damon went off and did something.”

                “Well, Alaric has to sleep some time, too,” offered Caroline sardonically, but then said, “But that’s true. He did promise to try to stay more on the clean and narrow, after... the... school dance.”

                “Look,” offered Bonnie, “Caroline you said that we need to know more because we’re obviously now in the middle of something that other people know more about. So let’s start finding some things out: you look into the Council; I’ll see what Grams and Professor Shane can tell me about my powers and try to... control them more.”

                “Are you okay, Bon?” asked Elena. “Has something happened?”

                “Ummm...” hedged Bonnie, “There might have been a slight miscalculation of the candles this past weekend. Nothing serious. Just... maybe a pillow – or three – now has scorch marks.”

                “Are you okay?” echoed Caroline, and Elena and Bonnie could hear the low murmur of people as she began moving through crowds down on Main St.

                “It wasn’t anything serious,” argued Bonnie. “I just need more control.”

                Elena sighed. “Fine. But then I’m going to start looking into Doppelgangers and my parents’ old journals. See if I can find anything useful.”

                “Report later, girls?” asked Caroline authoritatively.

                Elena was about the respond when Caroline shrieked, “NO! WHAT DO YOU THINK YOU’RE DOING? Tyler, put that down! _Oh my God,_ it doesn’t go there. No, I don’t care what –” she made a loud exhale through her nose and then muttered, “I’ll see you guys later. Problems to deal with,” and then hung up.

                “Well,” said Bonnie after a moment. “See you at the Gala in a few hours.”

                “Bye, Bon,” said Elena, hanging up.

                “All okay?” called Jeremy, loudly and over his earphones.

                Elena nodded, giving him a negligent hand wave and left her room to find her Aunt Jenna, and to see if they could avoid giving the pocket watch to the Lockwood auction.

                However, upon reaching the bottom of the stairs, Elena froze at the sight of the tall, skinny man with a head full of wavy, dark brown hair with a receding hairline.

                “Hello, Elena,” he said, his voice low and almost sinister.

                “Uncle John,” stuttered Elena in surprise. “What are you doing here?”

                He smiled, but it was half a smirk and more of an ‘I know something you don’t know’ smile. “I heard that the Council is having some... _trouble_... and I thought I’d lend a hand.” He glanced to the side where Jenna was standing, arms crossed and eyes narrowed at her brother-in-law’s brother, one she didn’t like much.

                “I thought I’d hang around for a bit, see how you and Jeremy are doing, too,” he continued.

                Elena swallowed heavily.

                “That’s ok, isn’t it?”

                Elena and Jenna shared a quick glance.

                “Of course, John,” Jenna said, motioning at his suitcase. “Let’s go get you settled into the guest bedroom.”

                “Thank you,” he said, then eyed Elena. “Why are you dressed so nice? Do you have a date or something?”

                “Yeah, kinda,” answered Elena slowly. “It’s the Founder’s Gala tonight. I’m going with my boyfriend.”

                “Oh,” replied John, a fixed smile on his face. “I hope I’ll see Matt when he comes to pick you up. I remember going to those events – horribly pretentious. Hated them.”

                Elena shifted uneasily, unsure of what to say but Jenna opened her mouth to answer instead. “Elena and Matt aren’t dating anymore. She’s talking about her new boyfriend, Stefan.”

                “Stefan...?” John trailed off, a widening smile stretching his lips.

                “Salvatore,” offered Jenna, as Elena’s face paled and heated up simultaneously, realizing that John must be on the Council already or knowledgeable about vampires to suddenly have that shit-eating grin on his face. “He and his brother just moved here recently.”

                “Why, I think I might just join you and your boyfriend tonight, Elena,” said John, turning and heading up the stairs with Jenna. “See you in an hour!”

                Elena wished the floor would open up and swallow her in response.

*

                The Gala, while a success in some ways, was a complete failure in others. The failures had nothing to do with the event itself, the catering, the music, or even the decoration (Caroline was too much of a perfectionist to have problems there); instead, having John Gilbert back in Mystic Falls meant that many people were happily welcoming him “home” while Elena stood to the side with Stefan, Damon, Caroline and Bonnie. (When asking Caroline and Bonnie where their dates were, Bonnie replied she was going ‘stag’ and Caroline said Nik was out of town for business, hunting down some sort of lead or something)

                “At least he doesn’t have the pocket watch,” offered Bonnie in consolation, as the group drowned their current worries in alcohol.

                “Good point, Sabrina,” said Damon, glancing at Elena. “Where _is_ the watch?”

                “With Jer,” answered Elena. “He doesn’t want it going to the Lockwood’s or anyone else given he’s”—she looked around furtively—“dating you-know-who.”

                “Voldemort?” drawled Caroline, her eyes roaming the ballroom and keeping a keen eye on the hired help.

                Elena shot her a dry look that Caroline ignored. “Whatever. He’s willing to help. He found a lot out on his own, and through Vicki, so he said he’d help if I start giving him some more information, too.”

                “And...?” asked Damon, implying something.

                “And what?” asked Elena.

                “And you’re only going to give him bits and pieces, not tell him _everything_ ,” he finished, staring at her intently.

                Elena shook her head. “No way. He’s involved now. He needs to know anything and everything to make the best decisions he can.”

                Caroline raised her eyebrows, and Elena flushed. She knew what Caroline was thinking: _it’s not as if_ we _know everything either, is it? Especially when your boyfriend and his brother keep things from us, too. Like it or not, we’ve all got personal agendas here, Elena..._

                “Well, standing here and moping isn’t going to help us any other than throw lots of suspicion on us, especially if he is Council like we think,” bossed Caroline. She linked arms with Bonnie and began steering her towards the dance floor. “I think we’re going to find Matt and Tyler, and see what the football team is up to. Why don’t you and Stefan dance, Elena?”

                Then they were gone, leaving Elena sandwiched between Damon and Stefan, both of whom were sending each other awkward hostile looks over her head.

                She sighed.

                “I’m going to grab us some drinks and see if I can overhear anything,” offered Stefan finally, bending and giving Elena a quick buss across her lips. “Want anything in particular?”

                “Just... something strong,” weakly replied Elena, realizing she was left with Damon, alone.

                Stefan nodded and soon was lost in the familiar black-suited crowd of other men around the bar.

                Elena could feel Damon’s eyes on her, making her skin prickle.

                “What?” she finally burst out.

                “You’re taking a lot of this news well,” he finally said, keeping his blue eyes on her.

                “What news?”

                “That you’re a doppelganger. That Katherine looked exactly like you. That Stefan was only here to see if you were a psychotic, manipulative bitch,” replied Damon cheerfully. “I mean, you _are_ here with my brother. So bygones must be bygones.”

                Elena rolled her eyes. “Just because I seem to be processing it, doesn’t mean I like it.” She crossed her arms. “And don’t think I didn’t notice that Stefan didn’t want to answer my questions.”

                “Unlike me?” charmed Damon with a flirty girl. “I’ll tell you _anything_ you want to hear, Elena.”

                “I think you should stop with the flirty little comments and the eye-thing you do,” replied Elena instead, frowning as she looked up at Damon.

                “What eye-thing?” he asked, confusion melting his grin into a frown.

                Elena sighed. “Don’t make me regret being your friend, okay?”

                “Elena,” he began, seriously, “For all intents and purposes, I have never lied to you. I might kill, steal, cheat, or manipulate my way through life – but I have never lied to you. I don’t treat you like an idiot, and I know you’re human and therefore more fragile than a vampire is. But I’m not going to sugar-coat life for you.”

                He finished by staring hard into her eyes. “ _I am not my brother_ ,” and then he left Elena alone, standing by the wall wondering what the fuck was up with Damon Salvatore.

*

                Despite having graduated university with her parents’ funeral hanging over her head successfully, Elena didn’t hold a full time career like Caroline, nor did she have an absolute direction in life like Bonnie had now with magic. She worked part time at the Mystic Falls Gazette, as a copy editor, with ambitions and dreams of one day being a world-famous novelist or journalist (despite it being a dying field of online bloggers and pseudo-news).

                However, being a mere part timer on the lowly rung of journalism, meant that Elena had ample free time to research whatever she wanted and tell her boss, Franklin Fells II, that it was for self-study and self-research for something personal (“It’s family history on my mom’s side, Mr. Fells. Honest.”). Besides, her internet search results on doppelgangers weren’t expansive or useful at all; she had several official definitions of them being harbingers of bad luck and evil omens (Katherine sounded like one) from Wikipedia and Merriam-Webster, and even Urban Dictionary. Google Images was fun and she spent several hours gapping at celebrity lookalikes and contest results, before realising she had gone off on the wrong track. There was a bad 1993 movie of that name; articles on finding your own Doppelganger or people meeting their doppelgangers for the first time.

                But nothing on supernatural doppelgangers like herself and Katherine.

                So she was forced to attend a different avenue: her family history, and hope that something would come up – an old picture, a description – of an older family member related to her, despite being adopted, that could explain away her likeness to Katherine.

                But first, she needed to know more about John Gilbert and Isobel Flemming. Did her doppelganger side come from John, and the Gilberts, or did it come from Isobel and the Flemmings? She never let on to John that she knew the truth, that her parents told her about the council and vampires, ever, so she had an edge on the man and his sudden arrival. But knowledge was power, and Caroline had a point of things starting to heat up and they had to be forewarned.

                There was very little on her birth mother, Isobel, in the Mystic Falls Gazette. She showed up only twice: once in an article attached to a visiting club to Mystic Falls High from the next town over, and then a second time attached to John Gilbert’s name as his date for an award he received in marksmanship.

                Noting down whatever information she could of Isobel, at worst case requiring a trip to Coleman Falls, the town she came from, Elena moved to learn more about her father’s family, the Gilberts. She knew most of her family history of her great-grandfather and his role as a settler of Mystic Falls, but she didn’t know where he came from, or what her family was before the Gilberts. Bored, she began searching passenger ships from the 1700s, and naval records, stumbling upon an ancestor of hers, Geoffrey Gilbert on Ancestry.com, and then from there it was just one name after another, one land holding record after another, and – perhaps strangely enough – one Wikipedia page of a famous act her family had done after another.

                The Gilbert name was originally Norman, or Germanic, _Giselbert_ ; her oldest traceable “Gilbert” ancestor was Gilbert, or Crispin, the Count of Brionne and Eu in northern France, and one of the guardians of William the Conqueror when he was a child. The name itself meant “pledge” or “young noble,” in the first half, and “bright” or “famous” in the second part of the name. Giselbert then could be traced to the early 800s, of Dukes and Lords of Lorraine as well as men with strongholds against invading Vikings, particularly Reginar, Duke of Lorraine, and his offspring and their occupation of what would later become parts of the Holy Roman Empire and modern-day Belgium.

Although most of her family fled to Northern France afterwards, their beginnings were in Belgium and the over-land access of westward travelling Vikings searching for their next raid. After Northern France and the crusades, the Middle Ages had the Giselbert/Gilberts settle in England up until English Civil War when the Gilberts cut their losses as Cavaliers and royal supporters (of course they would be, after all the raising of royalty and dukedoms they held), fleeing after Cromwell implemented the Protectorate.

They travelled to Jamestown, got caught up in Bacon’s Rebellion, helped establish Williamsburg; the Gilbert family stayed there and got caught up in the American Revolution, only to have significant losses in the family. Following that, they made their money in shipping and farming, and eventually in the mid-1800s, founded Mystic Falls, cleverly hidden in the wooded mountains of Virginia and far from the ocean. And there, John Gilbert, Elena’s great-grandfather, became a vampire hunter.

_Of course, learning how they first knew of vampires would be another story altogether_ , groaned Elena, letting her head fall to her work desk with a loud _smack_.

*

                Bonnie wasn’t having a fun time of things, either. School had all but shut down by this time in December, leaving her Grams with nothing to teach until January, and Atticus Shane, her fellow co-teacher of the course, was finishing up his assignments and marking before leaving on an expedition over the holiday period to Canada’s Atlantic coast.

                Ever since the “pillow incident” as her grandmother referred to it, Bonnie had spent hours in deep mediation, trying hard to reach and feel her magic flow around her, connect to it, speak to it, and try, mostly, to reason with it. Grams hadn’t been pleased when she’d one day walked into a lesson with Bonnie only to realise her powers had significantly grown in a week, and was left wondering why. Bonnie didn’t have the heart to tell her at first, that she absorbed the magic of one hundred dead witches in order to have the power to lock (or free, at that time) Katherine Pierce in the tomb under Fell’s church.

                But she caved.

                And Grams had been appalled.

                Vampires in Mystic Falls! Bonnie _willingly_ working alongside vampires! The shock, the horror, the _disgust_ on her Grams face made Bonnie feel about two inches tall by the time she was done chewing her out.

                But Bonnie held her ground. She explained what happened to Caroline, Stefan and Damon’s interest in Elena (and didn’t that make her Grams shift guiltily, reminding Bonnie about her mother’s disappearance and something Elena had once said about her parents’ journals, but that was another topic to discuss later), and their deal to entomb Katherine permanently.

                Grams didn’t like it. Truthfully, Bonnie didn’t like it either. She didn’t trust Stefan or Damon – well, Damon less than Stefan, but there was also something just _off_ about Stefan she couldn’t quite get a grasp on whenever she touched his skin – and she didn’t like Elena’s rose-tinted viewed of the two vampires, especially after what Damon did to Caroline. Bonnie knew Caroline wasn’t comfortable around either Stefan or Damon since September, all with good reason, but she put up with them for Elena’s sake and Elena didn’t even notice.

Bonnie just inherently didn’t trust either vampire, and she certainly didn’t trust Elena’s emotions around them, end of story.

Yet, her working with Damon and the power boost she received from the witches meant that her Grams was riding her ass to do better and to learn faster.

It also meant going back to basics.

Bonnie sighed. “Why am I doing this again?”

“To gain control,” snapped her Grams, arms folded as she elegantly reclined in the comfortable office chair she had in her school office. “You wanted more power Bonnie, and while you had quite a lot of control before, gaining that power has upset your natural inner balance and now you most regain it, one trial at a time.

“Now. Concentrate on lighting the candle.”

Bonnie sighed again, arms straight and gripping the edge of the cushioned seat she was on, as she leaned slightly forward and frowned, eyes intently upon the unlit wick of the candle on Grams’ desk. Bonnie could feel the magic just underneath her skin, bubbling and ready to command and work with. It was a rolling, roaring sensation of raw power – the smell of rain before a thunderstorm, the awe of watching a hurricane rip through and destroying all that stood in its path, the heat of lava steadily making its way down the volcano’s side – Bonnie couldn’t explain what magic felt like, properly, just what sensations it felt like to her.

It was raw power. Strength, heat, anger and domination all rolled together in a neat package of feeling the shift in the air before a breeze, knowing what vegetation was dying and getting a growth cycle just by being nearby, or feeling the trickle of a river’s current and knowing where it was going. She was connected to _it_ , just as much as it was connected to _her_.

But that didn’t mean that the power of one hundred witches exactly _liked_ being in Bonnie, especially giving how she received it and why she wanted it to begin with. Power is power, whether used for good or evil, and at this point, Bonnie didn’t like the hushed whispers and emotions she sometimes caught – when she was alone, in the shower, brushing her teeth, or making toast in the still of the morning – whispers that begged her to find Stefan and Damon, to teach them what being a Bennett meant...

Bonnie ignored that. She concentrated on the wick, looking at it intently, feeling the power bubble up under her skin, building, slowly gaining momentum as she thought of what she wanted – the candle lit and a flame flickering in the slightly darkened office – and just as she was about to whisper the spell...

The office door opened with the flourish and a voice began, “Sheila! I’m glad you’re still here, oh... I... didn’t mean to interrupt.”

The power dissipated and Bonnie was left with nothing. She sighed again, turning in her chair to face Atticus Shane, who stood contrite in the open doorway, hand still on the knob.

“My apologies, Bonnie,” he began, shutting the door behind him as he stepped into the room. “I didn’t mean to interrupt your training. How’s it going?”

“Slow,” she grumbled, sitting back in the chair and crossing her arms petulantly.

Shane and Sheila shared a look over Bonnie head that had her rolling her eyes. “Bonnie had a significant increase in her powers recently and is having trouble controlling it. Do you have any suggestions, Atticus?”

The curly-haired young man tapped a finger to his lips and he looked up at the ceiling, hmming. “Well, you can always tap into your emotions.”

“My emotions?” asked Bonnie just as her Grams snapped, “Absolutely not.”

“Wait, what?” asked Bonnie, turning to her grandmother. “What is this about using my emotions?”

                Sheila refused to speak, glaring at her granddaughter like her word was enough, but Shane decided to seat himself in the vacant chair next to Bonnie and began to explain. “Using your emotions during spells is something called Expressionism. Predominantly, when you tap into your emotions, your spells, and your magical ability, become stronger. It also offers a much narrower perspective when casting, so that you can concentrate specifically on the spell you are casting. No getting distracted by events beyond your view.”

                “It also twists your magic,” inputted Sheila darkly, glowering at Shane. “That’s what Atticus isn’t telling you, Bonnie. It is evil, _dark_ magic. You are no longer connecting to nature, but to the magic inherently within you and within others around you. You become a Siphon, an abomination of a witch – you steal and take other’s magical abilities instead of using what is provided to you by the Spirits and Nature itself.”

                “Well, that’s up for debate,” Shane demurred politely, glancing away from Sheila with a small smile.

                “No, it’s not,” snapped Sheila back, leaving Bonnie swiveling her head from one to the other. She was utterly confused, brows furrowed as she tried to understand. “That’s enough for today, Bonnie. Go home and spend some time with your father. We’re done.”

                Bonnie stood slowly from the chair, nodding, her eyes bouncing from her Grams to Shane. Her grandmother began fiddling with sage on her desk in a small ashtray as she spoke. “Uh, sure, Grams. I’ll speak to you tomorrow. Night, Professor Shane.”

                “Goodnight, Bonnie,” Shane said as Sheila strode around her desk to kiss Bonnie on the cheek and send her away.

                As soon as Bonnie stepped through the door, a silencing spell went up and Bonnie scowled.

                Instead of going straight home from Wittmore, Bonnie instead went to the Mystic Grill, needing a drink and deciding she didn’t want to hear her father’s silent judgment at home as she had a cold one. However, upon entering the Grill, she couldn’t help but groan. Of all the people she wanted to avoid, she _had_ to see Damon Salvatore nursing a half-full tumbler.

                Unfortunately, Damon also noticed _her_ , and gestured for Bonnie to join him at the bar. Sighing, she did so reluctantly, trudging over slowly and nearly falling into the chair that Damon pushed out with a booted foot.

                “And a hello to you, too, Witchy,” the vampire greeted Bonnie sardonically with a tilt of his tumbler.

                Bonnie ignored him, flagging down Matt Donovan and practically begging the blond man, “Shot of tequila, please. Now. Make it a double, Matt.”

                Matt let the surprise show on his face with his eyebrows reaching high and his mouth dropping open a tiny bit, but nodded and turned away to get a shot glass and the Jose Cuervo.

Damon raised his eyebrows in surprise and glee. “What brings you to the Grill at four o’clock in the afternoon for such a drink?”

Bonnie pondered what to say as she leaned against the bar with one arm, propping her chin up in that hand. Matt set her shot in front of her and then left, to help another person, and Bonnie idly ran a finger around the rim of the glass.

“Grams was trying to talk me through beginner spell work,” she finally said, watching Damon from the corner of her eye watching her intently. “I’ve been having trouble since the house a few months back, and she’s been taking me back to the beginning.”

“So what’s the problem? Can’t handle your juju?” smirked Damon.

Bonnie shook her head and sighed. “Kind of, but not. Like... every time I do a spell, I do it – just with more force or stronger than before.”

“Again, so what’s the problem?”

Bonnie shrugged. “Grams is all like ‘find the balance in Nature!’ and I’m like, _I’m trying_ , but the connection just isn’t there. And then I’m trying and trying to get it to work when I’m at home, and I get so frustrated... and that emotion spills over and then I supercharge my spell.”

Damon swirled his drink and took a sip. “Sounds like you’re going to be a great help in keeping Elena safe, in my mind. I don’t see a downside to this.”

Bonnie scoffed. “Yeah, neither did I until Professor Shane came in and said something about using emotion to facilitate spell work.”

“Shane?”

“Atticus Shane, my Grams’ colleague. He teaches about the occult and rituals and stuff for Wittmore in their Religious Studies and Lib Arts programs,” explained Bonnie. “We went to him ages ago when Elena learned she was adopted. He used to work with her birth mom.”

“No kidding!” said Damon sarcastically, eyes wide and mouth stretched in a thin line, clearly showing he didn’t care.

“Yeah well,” sighed Bonnie. “Anyway. He said when you use magic with emotion, it’s called Expressionism. Heard of it?”

Damon hummed. “Expressionism... no... can’t say I have. What’s so bad about it?”

“Grams went nuts,” added Bonnie, before explaining, “Says that because witches uses natural magicks around them, we draw from other living things, like the earth, plants, etc., and what we are born with naturally – something that has a limit quota, like I only had thirty percent magical ability and then after the witch house, I now have seventy. I can’t do more than the seventy percent of magic I have; once that engine is empty, so is my magical ability until I recharge.

“Expressionism draws on the power of emotion in spell casting, which Grams said is Dark, because of it being magic coming from _you_. Magic coming from you or from another living human being is called... um, oh what was it?” Bonnie frowned. “Yeah, Siphoning. Something totally against magic and witches in general it’s called abominable.”

“I’m still not seeing what’s so bad about Expressionism,” offered Damon finally. “Isn’t it a bit _Star Wars_?” he made a face and began to imitate Yoda by modulating his voice: “ _Fear leads to anger, anger leads to hate, hate leads to suffering_... but what about positive emotions? Are they just as bad if you’re using love, or joy, or pride, to cast your spells?”

Bonnie paused in lifting her shot glass. “I... hadn’t thought about that.”

Damon gave her a knowing look. “Exactly, Witchy. Looks like your Grams was just focusing on the negative aspects of Expressionism, if that’s what it is. Look – I can see how negative emotions and spell casting supercharge you to the point where you might get lost in all that emotion because it’ll tumble.” At Bonnie’s wrong, he expanded: “Think of it like a domino set: each time you use Expressionism, or a negative emotion to focus your casting, it builds because it knocks another domino down. And then another, and another, and _then_ another. What happens at the end?”

Bonnie understood. “All the dominoes are down because the one that came before it caused the next to fall. They build upon each other.”

“I’d imagine that negativity can be like that. One day someone cuts you off driving, and you get pissed. The next day, they do it again and you get angrier. The next day, you cut them off and they rear-end you and you’re at fault for an insurance claim,” Damon shrugged. “It all comes together in the end.”

                “What do you suggest I do then?” asked Bonnie hesitantly. “I can’t just ignore what my Grams said. She’s been practicing for decades and has more knowledge than I ever will.”

                Damon shrugged and tossed back what was left of his drink. “Then go out and find the information you need. Ask around. Google it, I don’t know. But get your shit together, Sabrina.”

                Bonnie frowned and reared back from the words Damon began to spit at her, surprised at the hostile direction. “God, what crawled up your ass and died?”

                Damon pulled on his leather jacket and gave her a winning grin. “Oh, didn’t you know, Bonnie? I’m the evil one. You can’t trust a word I’m saying.”

                He then breezed out of the Grill, leaving Bonnie at the bar with an untouched shot of tequila, feeling exasperated. But, despite Damon’s attitude...

                “Vampire’s got a point,” she muttered, and then drank her shot.

*

                “Quite honestly, there isn’t shit,” was how Caroline opened her conversation with Bonnie and Elena on three-way a few evenings later.

                Elena got the other two girls up to date on her family history and how there wasn’t anything about doppelgangers on the Gilbert side; it was Caroline who realised that the first-floor storage room of her building, used by the Town for old paper storage (since everything else had overflowed at town hall, and therefore had an abundance of records of Mystic Falls, pre-1900), had the information they needed on the Council.

                It was purely by accident; Nik had gone to Norfolk to check up on someone (“I’m spying on him really, he doesn’t know I’m keeping an eye on him since he’s trying to keep an eye on _me_.”), and Caroline was bored. So, what else better to do then look at the first floor storage rooms Jenna had pointed out when she moved in as empty and old records? Jenna _had_ said that because Caroline worked for the town, she could have access to the information, too...

                So she applied with the Heritage Department – run by Carol Lockwood – and cited she needed the information to check town event traditions and events that had fallen out of favour over the years to see if there was anything they could resurrect. Carol Lockwood rolled her eyes and signed the paper, and Caroline went to the old man in Archives and received the skeleton key for the bottom two rooms. One she was turning into her office, moving from the town hall to the spacious room in her building on the first floor, but the other she planned on snooping in.

                Despite what the Founding Families of Mystic Falls thought, those pre-twentieth century record keepers were horrible liars. Caroline noted several inconsistencies surrounding the Battle of Willow Creek from the start that any reputable researcher should have noticed right away; even more, there were issues with population records and building deeds from the moment Mystic Falls was settled. Caroline had never seen houses and businesses change so many hands so quickly!

                “It’s really easy to see who was friendly with whom,” began Caroline, leafing through the dusty paper and sneezing. She brushed a hand under her nose, rubbing at it, and then tucked a piece of stray hair from her high ponytail behind her ear. “A Fell would purchase this or that from a Gilbert, who then sold something to a Forbes, who then bought something and sold something else to a Lockwood – it’s all kind of incestuous, actually. Especially some of these marriage records. Make things a bit awkward.”

                Elena’s laugh was tinny over the speaker. “So you think this is the Founding Families for sure?”

                Caroline nodded, even though Elena and Bonnie couldn’t see her. “Absolutely. They match all the original names on the Founding document, and they really only prefer interacting with each other. I can see where the Donovan family came first to Mystic Falls and to be honest, they were always kind of shunned. Bennetts were always here – native? Local? I can’t really tell – but they operated on the fringe. Gone to for the purchasing of something or the service of something, so in the know, but not _part of the know_ , you know?”

                “That was a lot of ‘you know’s,” commented Bonnie dryly, “But yeah, _we know_.”

                “Funny,” scowled Caroline.

                “So, the Battle of Willow Creek. What’s written about that?” asked Elena, drawing the attention from Bonnie and Caroline.

                Caroline shuffled some more papers, sighing. “Two versions; one recorded as ‘accurate’ and I’m making quotation marks here – and the other as what we learned in school. There was a population boom in the late 1880s in Mystic Falls, and again after World War Two, so the Founding Families had to alter history a bit to keep the supernatural quiet.”

                “Were people more aware in the past, then?” asked Bonnie.

                “No,” answered Caroline, “It doesn’t look like it, mainly because there wasn’t anything to hide. The Battle of Willow Creek had the largest population of vampires in Mystic Falls ever, and since. I can easily see when Damon and Stefan appeared – every fifty years or so – because there were a few unexplained deaths for about two or three weeks and then a Salvatore relative got antsy and the Founding Families purchased more land or built something, and then things went quiet again. Last time they were here was in the fifties? I _think_ Stefan was here later than that – in the nineties when we were in elementary school – but I’m still working on that.”

                “Back to Willow Creek...” started Elena.

Bonnie jumped in, “But you know who the other vampires were, then?”

“Yeah, just a sec,” replied Caroline, moving another paper on top. “A business lady, Pearl Lee; a Union soldier named Harper Jones; a few vagrants who settled on the edge of time and did woodwork and odd jobs for the town: Charlie Smith, Henry LeFerve, Frederick Hynes, William Cuttle. Bethanne Johnson, she worked as a maid in the Hamilton house.”

“How do you know they were the vampires?” asked Bonnie.

Caroline sighed and leaned against the single, large desk in the storage room. Everything else were rows of metal shelving and sagging, water-marked boxes covered in dust and mould.

“Because they all appeared within months of each other,” she answered. “Mystic Falls is at _least_ a four hour drive from the ocean. We don’t have trade or export, Bon. People come to Mystic Falls because they have the money to sustain themselves financially without needing trade or industry. Most people were either wealthy landowners, businessmen with their companies in Norfolk, Richmond, or Hampton, or farmers. Why would stragglers come to us?”

“... good point,” conceded Bonnie.

“Anyway, something that is deceptively quiet is the Lockwood family,” said Caroline, rotating on her feet to face away from the desk. “There’s loads of information on what the family _did_ , even though the Fells were the ones with the money to build and name things around here... but history of the Lockwoods? Anything about where they came from before Mystic Falls? Nothing. Nada. Zip.”

“So that means nothing that could point us in the direction of werewolves?” sighed Elena.

“Not at all,” answered Caroline. “And to be honest, at this point I’d be wondering where your family got their information from, ‘Lena. Because as far as the Founding Families were concerned, they only knew about vampires.”

“I’ll look into it,” their doppelganger friend sighed, sounding frustrated.

“Are you sure you want to take that on, on top of everything else with your family history?” asked Bonnie cautiously over the phone.

“We all need to do our parts,” Elena replied, ignoring Bonnie’s comment. “Caroline was right; something is really fishy with things, not just Stefan and Damon coming back, but the timing of Katherine making an appearance, too. And Anna suddenly in town? That’s four vampires in less than four months.”

_Five,_ thought Caroline, but determined not to say anything about her boyfriend.

“Elena,” began Caroline slowly, “You should know something important that I found.”

“Oh? What?”

“Stefan and Damon didn’t seem to come back to Mystic Falls since the fifties, but there was definitely a vampire of some sort when we were six here,” she said slowly, turning on her heels back to the desk and looking down at the odd looking, DOS-printer paper with dotted tear-away edges. It was a single sheet, a small note tucked away and hopefully forgotten.

“Was it Katherine?” asked Bonnie.

“No,” answered Caroline. “It’s a print out from an old DOS computer, to Bonnie’s mom from your dad, Elena. It looks like it was slipped in with a bunch of receipts for the store Bonnie’s Grams runs.”

Elena was surprised. “What? What’s it say?”

Caroline paused, then said: “‘Cast the spell. Tomorrow, full moon, midnight. We’ll lure Mikael, you pick the place.’”

“Who’s Mikael? And what spell?” demanded Elena.

“Do you think this is what caused my mother to lose her powers and leave?” asked Bonnie at the same time.

“I’m not sure,” hedged Caroline, her mind whirling away. “But I think we need to figure out what happened in 1998 between your parents.”

Elena groaned. “Something _else_ to research. We need more help.”

“Do you want to ask Jeremy?” asked Bonnie hesitantly.

“He’s already involved,” added Caroline quietly.

Elena sighed. “I think I will need to now. And he can help with some more of the research that he’s already begun, just take it in a different direction.”

“What’s he working on?” demanded Caroline.

“General research on vampires and werewolves and other supernaturals,” answered Elena. “But I can set him to work on the Gilbert journals. It’s time he reads them anyway.”

With the new plan set, the girls hung up and Caroline happily left the dusty and dark storage room, locking the heavy wooden door behind her, and began making her way back to her apartment.

It was already dark, even though it was barely five in the afternoon, and the air held a crisp, shivering quality to it that it normally did mid-December. Winter was bearing down on Mystic Falls, and Caroline was eager to leave the unheated part of her old building – the downstairs entryway and the storage rooms (due to climate control issues) – for her cozy and warm apartment.

_Maybe break out the cider, put that complementing pecan pie in the oven and have a slice with vanilla ice cream while watching something on ABC_ , thought Caroline, unlocking her front door. With Nik out of town, she wouldn’t mind having some “me” time that involved her, her bathroom, and her imagination.

She had left some lights on, in order not to return to a pitch-black apartment with the only light coming from the two streetlights across the road next to the cemetery, but was confused by the darkness that met her.

_Odd,_ she thought, frowning and reaching behind her to the waistband of her skinny jeans, where she had her vervain-soaked rider’s crop tucked in, _I thought I left the kitchen light on? And the TV?_

Caroline inched forward, gently shutting the door shut behind her. _It was locked. If someone is in here, they jimmied the lock and then locked it on entering. It can’t be a vampire because they need to be invited in. Maybe a werewolf?_

Each thought was more worrisome than the last; she didn’t know any werewolves she might have angered, so they were an unknown. If it were a regular break-in, the person waiting on her would be the most mundane thing to happen and her riding crop was useless; she would need to use Alaric’s self-defense training instead.

Caroline eased through the main passageway into her open layout living/kitchen, sliding along the wall to protect her back as she did so, moving along to where the downstairs full bath was. As she ghosted past the partially open door, she felt a breeze at her back, causing her to freeze.

Then, in a blurry of movement, she spun, kicking out with her heel and catching someone in their mid-section; they grunted and fell back against the bathroom counter. Lights flickered in her vision, and Caroline blinked; they didn’t go away and she wondered what was causing the odd, but pretty, soft flickering light. Was there something wrong with her LCD light bulbs?

“What the bloody hell, sweetheart!?” shouted out a distinctly familiar British voice.

The bathroom lights came on, and Caroline sheepishly lowered her hands – which she brought up as fists to her face – and grinned guiltily at Nik, who stood slightly hunched over, glowering from under his brows with one hand tightly gripping her granite countertop.

“Please don’t crack the countertop,” were the first words out of Caroline’s mouth. Even she grimaced as she heard them. “What I meant was, are you okay?”

Nik rolled his eyes in a very Caroline-like move. Clearly, he was spending too much time with her. “Fine. I’ll heal. It wasn’t that hard a kick.” He beadily looked at her. “Any reason why you _did_ kick me, sweetheart?”

“Sorry,” said Caroline contritely, moving closer to Nik and gently place a hand on his arm. She sidled up next to him and gave him a gentle hug. “I left the kitchen lights on and the TV while I was downstairs. I didn’t expect you back anytime soon, so I was surprised and thought someone broke in.”

Nik’s grumpy and sour expression melted as he felt Caroline fit to his side, and he sighed at her explanation. “I’m sorry for giving you a fright.”

“That’s fine,” replied Caroline, closing her eyes and enjoying being next to her boyfriend. She then popped her eyes open and took in the bathroom, which she hadn’t noticed before. Nik had the bathtub full with bubbles, the relaxing fragrance of lavender and jasmine permeating the room from the incense sticks burning alongside several candles of varying height. That had been the flickering she had seen earlier.

“What’s this?” asked Caroline.

“I thought a nice surprise for you,” began Nik, indulgently looking around at his work. “Since you have been so busy with all these events recently.”

“Nik!” cried Caroline delightedly. “Thank you. I was planning on taking a bath later tonight, too!” She sighed, nestling closer. “This is a wonderful surprise. I just wasn’t expecting you back so soon. Did you get what you needed?”

Nik nodded, reaching up and smoothing the back of Caroline’s head as he did so. “Very much so. My brother seems to think I’m still in London and not here.”

Caroline lifted her head. “Your _brother_? _That’s_ who you were spying on? And he thinks _he’s_ spying on _you_?”

Nik smothered a smile. “Elijah always thought he had the upper hand all these years. But I knew where he was.”

“Why on earth would be spying on you? Trying to find out where you are?” asked Caroline, gently disentangling herself from Nik’s arms, leading him out of the bathroom and towards the kitchen. She turned on only the under-counter lights in the kitchen, leaving them in a soft, intimate darkness. Nik settled at the kitchen table, one leg splayed out from the chair while his right arm rested comfortably along the tabletop. He was watching Caroline with a fond, if not small, smile – but Caroline could see the affection in his eyes.

She began setting the temperature on the oven for her pie, busying herself with small plates and forks for them. She was patiently waiting for Nik to share with her when he was ready; she had learned that he was very cautious, and while academically understanding that as a vampire he was much stronger than she was, she always treated him like a man, a normal human being, and inwardly, Caroline thought Nik appreciated it.

“We had a falling out several years ago,” finally said Nik. “Elijah is under the impression that I... I had killed our siblings.”

“Killed your siblings?” Caroline gapped unattractively as she turned to face her boyfriend. She blinked. “But... that doesn’t make sense. Every time you _have_ spoken about them, you’re... you’re just so full of love and fondness in your voice. People who like their siblings don’t go around killing them.”

Nik seemed pleased by her observation, relaxing even further into his chair. “Yes, well, apparently Elijah likes to think the worst of me.”

Caroline snorted.

“They’re alive, just... indisposed at the moment,” murmured Nik further, and Caroline was unsure if she was supposed to hear that or not. “But no matter. Elijah has been trying to keep tabs on me to stop me dealing with the curse.”

“That’s ridiculous!” blurted out Caroline, shortly distracted as the oven’s indicator beeped, telling her the oven was at the right temperature for the pie. “A curse is a _curse_ , it’s something _bad_. Why would your brother want you to suffer it? To stop you from being what you originally were: a werewolf?”

                “Because I _was_ originally a werewolf is why he wants me to fail in finding the necessary items to break the curse,” admitted Nik with a bitter, wry smile. “Can you imagine a werewolf _and_ a vampire in the same body? What they might be like?”

                “You mean what _you_ might be like,” replied Caroline shrewdly, turning from the table to take the pie out of its box and then slide it into the oven on a pizza stone. She set the timer for the allotted time on the box and shut the oven door, stepping back to the table.

                Nik was looking at the tabletop, emotions flickering on his face too quickly for Caroline to read, but enough to guess.

                “I’d imagine that a werewolf and a vampire inhabiting the same body could be a bit of a problem,” began Caroline. “The immortality of a vampire, and the strength of a werewolf? That sounds pretty OP to me.”

                Nik looked up from his frowning concentration of the table, to ask, “OP?”

                Caroline laughed. “Over powered. Gamer term.” She let the smile die on her lips before sitting across from Nik at the table. “There seems to be a lot of drawbacks, too, though.”

                “Drawbacks?” Nik scoffed. “I’d be the strongest being in the entire universe. Immortal, untouchable. I couldn’t be killed!”

                “It sounds lonely, Nik,” murmured Caroline, her hand fluttering out from her side to hovering uncertainly over his on the table. She clenched her fist instead and turned to look out a nearby window. “Think about it: even if you had another vampire beside you, they could still be killed the usual ways vampires can be killed, by sunlight or staking. A werewolf isn’t immortal, so they’d age and die like a regular human. There’d be _no one_ else like you.”

                Nik looked like he was pondering her words, but there was a still a mischievous look to his face that told Caroline she didn’t know the whole story.

                “Yes, well, it’s all hypothetical right now anyway,” dismissed Nik eventually after the silence between them went on for a few minutes, waving a negligent hand. “My mother never planned on me breaking the curse, and I’ve spent years gathering the information I needed on the Moonstone and her original spell in order to get the necessary pieces, and I’m almost there.”

                He glanced at Caroline when she failed to respond, only to see her with her mouth dropped open and an angry flush across her cheeks.

                _What brought that on?_ He wondered, and then mentally reviewed what he just said, grimacing. _Fuck_.

                “ _Your mother?_ ” Caroline shrilly repeated, finally breaking the silence. “Your mother was the one who cursed you?”

                Seeing no way out of the conversation, unable to compel the memory from Caroline (not that he necessarily wanted to), Nik wondered what his next move could be other than telling Caroline the truth. He wasn’t looking forward to having her look at him like a monster for wanting to break his mother’s curse – from knowing he hated his mother for what she did. Humans needed social and familial contact, did they not?

                Nik sighed. “She... had an affair with a man who lived near us. He was a werewolf, and passed the trait down to me. I didn’t know until I made my first vampire kill, after we had transitioned.”

                “Why did it take that long to manifest?” asked Caroline, still horrified with wide eyes and a pale face.

                “Werewolves only become wolves after they make their first kill, as punishment for killing another human being. Wolves are then cursed to transform and become mindless beasts every full moon,” explained Nik slowly, not looking at Caroline.

                Caroline shook her head. “That’s nuts. Who decided that was a good punishment for killing someone? What if it’s accidental? Vehicular manslaughter? You push someone, they fall and hit their head, get a concussion and fall into a coma and a week later, die? Would _that_ cause you to turn?” She shook her head again and breathed heavily through her nose. “Way too many variables to get that one right.”

                Nik looked at Caroline strangely. She was taking this a little too well. “Aren’t you upset with me? I told you my mother cursed me.”

                “And? So what? My mother ignored me most of my life, so it’s not like I can really say anything about mother/child relationships,” argued back Caroline.

                “Caroline,” implored Nik, reaching forward and taking both her hands in his, “It wasn’t just that my mother cursed me. _I hate my mother for what she did_. I—”

                “You...?”

                Nik looked then, and then back at Caroline, licking his lips nervously. “I... I told my siblings that our father, Mikael, killed her but in truth... _I did_. I ripped her heart out, so angry at what she stole from me, cursing my werewolf side. I never told them. I couldn’t. They’d hate me.”

                _Mikael_ , thought Caroline, mulling over the familiar name of the vampire that went after Elena when they were six. But that was for another time, Nik was more pressing. “So why are you telling _me_ if you never told anyone else?”

                It was the most vulnerable Caroline had ever seen _anyone_. Nik’s face was open, maybe not filled with remorse over the deed, but definitely haunted and conflicted by the guilt he felt – whether for killing his mother in an emotional outburst, or for lying to his siblings, Caroline didn’t know – and the fear he felt that she would turn away from him.

                It was obvious Nik craved acceptance and that his mother’s affair weighed heavily on him. There was far more to the story than Caroline knew.

                “Why were you angry?” she asked instead, trying to understand.

                “Werewolves are emotional. Incredibly emotional. And when they turn, their emotions are heightened, just like a newly transitioned vampire’s emotions and personality traits are heightened,” explained Nik, grateful in some sense that he wasn’t being called out on his actions. “I was in pain, from the curse. It was like a part of me was being ripped in two. I could feel the call of my werewolf side, telling me to transform thanks to the moon and my kill, but the curse was stopping it. Something was missing in me.”

                “Your mother knew,” sighed Caroline. “From the beginning that it was a possibility.”

                “And then Mikael would know what she did,” agreed Nik. “That she was unfaithful.”

                “You took advantage of that,” continued Caroline, eyeing Nik.

                He nodded. “I told my siblings he did it. It made sense to them.”

                Caroline bit her lip and a deep breath before speaking. “Lying to them was wrong. You shouldn’t have done that.” At Nik’s rapidly darkening face, she continued, “ ** _But_** , your mother definitely should not have taken something that was a part of you. Not because it was a result of her indiscretion. That wasn’t fair on you at all.”

                Nik blinked.

                “I don’t think you should have killed her, or she deserved to die,” finished Caroline, “But you should never be made to feel like you’re less than what you are for it. I understand wanting to rid yourself of the Sun and Moon curse, wholly.”

                “Thank you, sweetheart,” murmured Nik, stroking his thumb against the soft skin of the back of Caroline’s hand as he did so.

                “You said you needed pieces to break the curse?” she asked, tilting her head.

                Nik nodded, his blue eyes deeper and darker than she had ever seen them. “The Moonstone ties everything together. I need a witch to cast the spell, which I have. And the Sun and the Moon components are self-explanatory.”

                “A wolf and vampire, I’m guessing,” agreed Caroline, nose twitching as the pecan pie’s succulent smells began wafting from the oven, warming the entire apartment up.

                “Yes,” answered Nik. “And it has to take place here,”  he added reluctantly.

                “ _Here?_ ” asked Caroline incredulously, blinking. “In Mystic Falls?”

                Nik nodded. “This was our home once upon a time. Where the spell was originally cast. Where it needs to be undone.”

                “Wow. Okay. Didn’t see that one coming,” muttered Caroline. Then, pieces began to fall into place. “Wait a minute. Katherine told Damon the reason he couldn’t beat her was because she was older and stronger by over four hundred years. You said she stole the Moonstone from you when she first turned into a vampire. That means you’re over five hundred years old, at least.”

                He was watching her silently as she worked things out.

                “Mystic Falls was your home, once,” continued Caroline, in planner mode as she ignored the man across from her. “You were in England when Katherine turned, so you had to have lived here before the 1500s. But there isn’t any indication that there was a settlement here, just natives. You’re European looking – uh, sorry for being a bit, uh, you know – so you must have European ethnicity. And there was a time when European settlers came over to Canada and the United States, before they were what they are now.”

                She triumphantly finished with a smile and a sparkle in her eyes. “Vikings. Before the eleventh century.”

                Nik smothered a smile, although it was still visible in the crinkling at the corner of his eyes. “Well done, sweetheart. There was a small village here back in 990 AD. And this was where I was turned into a vampire.”

                “That would make you over a thousand years old!” gapped Caroline.

                “And from a family of the first vampires ever created,” agreed Nik. “I’m the Original vampire.”

                Caroline blinked. “Jesus.”

                 Happy now that the conversation was away from the curse, Nik began to regale Caroline with some of the sights he had seen over his length life, not even interrupting in his flow when the oven timer went off and Caroline served him a warm slice of pecan pie  with a side of vanilla ice cream and a warm, herbal tea. Not even when they finished their meal, or left the TV on mute to continue, or when Caroline began to yawn at three in the morning.

                She fell asleep listening to him describe his meeting with Magellan, teaching him a thing or two about maps, a smile on her lips.

*

                Too many things Nik had said didn’t add up, leaving Caroline frustrated and more than a bit worried. The man who went after Elena was named Mikael, the same as his father – someone who was over a thousand year old and a vampire to boot. Nik going after Katherine because she stole the Moonstone was one thing, but it was another for her to look exactly like Elena. Doppelgangers, for whatever information they could find and if you could trust Damon’s word, weren’t exactly popping up left, right and center.

                The curse itself seemed straightforward – a witch to cast and undo the original spell; a werewolf as a representation of the Moon, and a vampire to represent the Sun. But _how_ Nik would use them was something he was mum on, as well as how they all worked together to break the curse. And, when Caroline thought it, like she told Nik, curses were _bad_. Curses to break? Probably nothing good happened to those involved except to Nik, who would benefit from it.

                Uninspired, Caroline was glad for the fact that now she knew more about Nik, he was forthcoming in telling her where he was going and why – at least, if she could take “Elijah is watching two vampires who used to work for me right now. They were on the run since they helped Katarina escape me before, but I think they’re going to try to make themselves useful and help get my pieces in exchange for a pardon” as being forthcoming.

                _Wait a minute_ , she thought, suddenly sitting upright from her slouched position in front of her laptop at her kitchen table. _Wait. A. Minute_.

                _The Sun is the weakness of a vampire, just as the Moon is the weakness of the werewolf_ , she thought, biting her lip as her eyes darted about unseeingly. _They’re binaries, opposites; the vampire and werewolf_.

                _So what was the opposite of a witch casting (or breaking?) a spell_? Stumped, Caroline sighed and began running her fingers lightly over her keyboard. Her internet browser remained on a Google search for doppelgangers, an odd research bit she was doing for Elena.

                _Doppelgangers had to be important_ , Caroline decided. _Even though he hadn’t said anything about Elena; meeting her, speaking to her, anything at all. So where did they tie in?_

                Thinking about it, Caroline realised Nik never told her _how_ he and his siblings were turned into vampires, either. Just that they were the first.

                _Okay, Caroline. So think_. She began chewing on her lip. _How are vampires made? How was Nik turned into the first vampire? It had to have been a spell. A spell his mother cast on him_ and _his siblings, and I guess his father, too. But Nik indicated that they transitioned like all other vampires, and Elena’s Gilbert family journal says that the only way to become a vampire is to drink human blood_.

                Blood.

                Doppelgangers were magical creatures that shared identical physical appearances, something that was down to DNA. Which was part of your genetic makeup – meaning Elena and Katherine were identical down to their blood.

                But did that mean there was another doppelganger, one that looked like _Elena_ when Nik was still human?

                Frowning, Caroline heavily sighed, erased her browser history, and shut the internet browser down. Nik’s ritual and curse was beginning to appear far dodgier than Caroline had initially thought, and while she didn’t want to think anything bad about him... there definitely was more going on that she knew.

                For now though, she’d keep quiet until she knew more about Mikael, doppelgangers, and the curse. Once she had the information she needed, then she would make a decision.

**

TBC...


End file.
